g r a v e l

No Matter

 

He was born with a plastic spoon in his mouth
Known as the Dixie Cup Kid
His mother wore gingham
And bathed with rose smelling soap.

Sweltering sunshine fatten melons
During hazel nut summers
And once-upon-a-time tree houses
Overlooked dungaree flapping skies.

And he grew from a poor kid
Into a very poor man
Eating butter smothered corn on the cob
And watching crimson ribbon skies.

His bones grew tired and were rocked
When nighttime’s chill spread a black shawl
And as the fireflies began to wink
He read old letters with holiday stamps.