I swore out loud when I read this, but to keep it clean on here, I'll just say wowzers, friend. This poem makes me feel so understood. I love every word, but the milk glass marbles and perfume bottles - "ghosts steam from the strata" really got me. I wonder if that's a particularly southeast Atlanta thing or if everyone gets that after a rain storm or when gardening? This is powerful and I so want you to share more of your talent on here with your own publication when you are up to it. Thank you so much for sharing this!
I too love Atlanta for the culture, people, food and events. But the land itself is-- as you said-- trees being cut down, car congestion and more, it can be overwhelming. But I find the joy every day knowing that in Upstate NY where I hail from, it's quieter and I can always return home. Home to rolling hills and the Hudson River Valley that will always be waiting for me with lush, verdant valley views.
Your post made me want to share this poem I wrote with you.
This land is your land.
After the rain smacks glass,
dashes down a brick gutter,
after mulch washes into a wavy berm,
and the hickory tree sheds arthritic fingers,
after milk glass marbles and ladies’ perfume
bottles emerge nicked, and dented, and dirty—
ghosts steam from the strata. The enslaved,
and enlisted, and entitled. The maids,
and cooks, farmers and daughters. Horses
tied to posts, donkeys hitched to wagons
beneath pecan groves. Generations of Muscogee
Creek living, loving, planting, sowing
until excluded, diluted, driven away
from here. From where
their town of Standing Peachtree
became a depot, became a city,
became a fort, became a flame,
became a movie, became a movement
and a march, became a park, a zoo,
a neighborhood with a house and a yard
where I have taken over
with my hostas and hellebores
that grow beneath a long swing
that glides above something tried
and often cruel, never new,
and now deemed mine.
I swore out loud when I read this, but to keep it clean on here, I'll just say wowzers, friend. This poem makes me feel so understood. I love every word, but the milk glass marbles and perfume bottles - "ghosts steam from the strata" really got me. I wonder if that's a particularly southeast Atlanta thing or if everyone gets that after a rain storm or when gardening? This is powerful and I so want you to share more of your talent on here with your own publication when you are up to it. Thank you so much for sharing this!
I too love Atlanta for the culture, people, food and events. But the land itself is-- as you said-- trees being cut down, car congestion and more, it can be overwhelming. But I find the joy every day knowing that in Upstate NY where I hail from, it's quieter and I can always return home. Home to rolling hills and the Hudson River Valley that will always be waiting for me with lush, verdant valley views.
Yes, green as far as the eyes can see. I love that too. And I love how you find joy here too.
Oh yes, green as far as eyes can see. I love that. And I love how you find joy here too.