“Settled In or Life in Alabama”
We settled on the hard, red clay out back,
a dusty game of Jacks set our hearts free
but near mid-morning, we are hungry birds
mouth-gaping at the side door of her store.
We shuffle dirty, bare feet; outstretched hands:
Six little beggars, waiting for Grandma.
We hanker for an Orange Crush, Moon Pie.
Her checkered oil cloth table later swelled
with steaming smell of hand-tilled butter-beans.
Her cornfield lay in back near railroad track.
Fried chicken was a staple from her hens
who clucked and pecked, roamed free without a pen.
I marvel how they must have fed us all.
The Social blanket not established then.
Security was yet unknown to them;
the option was to work or else you starved.
Late afternoon, we ran half-mile of road
to meet the city bus brought Granddad home.
And so, we loyal soldiers marching free
we settled in behind him, happily.
(Day 28, April PAD, Writer’s Digest Prompt: write a “settled” poem)