bacon
bisquits and gravy,
scrambled eggs,
orange juice,
jelly toast,
bacon.
mamaw and papaw,
aunts and uncles,
mom and my brothers,
the sun rising, already hot.
the farm, ready for us
to work her fields.
we would bring
the tobacco in
soon.
“drink some water,” Mamaw would say,
“drink some water. It’s gonna be a scorcher.”
one more slice
of burnt bacon,
one more gulp
of OJ,
then we go out,
gather around Papaw,
tall on his tractor,
and start the work.
2 thoughts on "bacon"
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I can relate to this as both a poet and a farm raised dairy and tobacco harvesting soul…
I miss those days. Thank you, mtpoet!