Peach State Transplant

She belongs to my Georgia heat

A strange native to its unforgiving furnace

But she rumbles on

A vivid thunderstorm all on her own

And she waves at the July rain like an old friend

Catching at the diamond droplets like candy tossed from a parade float

Smiling sweeter than a glass of ice-cold tea

She’s at home among the sunflowers and cicada song

This California poppy plucked from far-off fields

And replanted in red clay to take root

Radiant as a summer Saturday night sparkler

She belongs to my Tennessee hills

To roll and ramble, easy and free

And no fear of getting lost because that’s the adventure of it

To find herself where she least expected

With only a jar of lightning bugs to shine her way home

She belongs to backroads and boat rides

And peach trees ripe for the picking

Yeah, she belongs here:

To the South

To the Wild

To Me.