Written soon after I returned to Louisiana and began my new life in Lafayette after being eight months away...
My empty pocket’s shame a sin,
Quenching forever the jubilance of my quest,
A notion that I might live forever -
All bark, branch and root of me,
Foreign front porches,
Time’s gift given to sit and wonder,
Through spells cast in confusing enlightenment,
Along the road of my hopes,
She doesn’t mean now what she meant,
And the riddles of my heart
Are holding tight the clues,
Behind all that’s closed I’m clever enough,
Seeing the southern carpet bagger
For who he really is -
Beneath boiling skin a deceiver with a bag of tricks,
Marked one by one,
By one for me,
By the grace of God go I.
12.05
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