Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Poetry for the People

"The next morning Renay called up Miss Sims. Delighted to hear from her star pupil after so long a time, Miss Sims wanted her to come over that very day. Renay told her that she would bring her mother, who wanted to hear her play.

They left Denise with a neighbor and in the twilight dusk walked to Miss Sims's house. Renay remembered the many times she had trudged to the Saturday music lessons. On the way, they passed hollow-eyed men and women sittin gon sunken porches in shaky wooden chairs, trying to absorb the listless August air peppered with tobacco smells from teh factory before going back into the humid dark shotgun shacks to bed. Children played untiringly around them, screaming like morning in the dusk..."

~from Loving Her, by Ann Allen Shockley

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