view poets | sign up | log in
Lexington Poetry Month
article by
Jamie Mann

Backwards people,
that whole town
knew my people,
they were backwards. 
Quiet folks,  
their translucent green,
almost colorless eyes,
the stern faces
an exact replica of
the little yellow creek fish
their youngins scooped up
in old plastic Quick Stop cups
to use as bait in hopes of bigger catches.
The men never stayed. 
The women never left. 
And the children just ran 
around dirty and doing
what comes natural until
they too took their place in the stream.

5 responses to “Angling”

  1. Rae Cobbs says:

    Painfully rich. Thank you.

  2. HB Elam says:

    Wonderful written. It feels like home.

  3. Gaby Bedetti says:

    Love this succinct yet knowing homage.

  4. Melva Sue Priddy says:


  5. Hailey says:


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *