Tribe
don't know if I'll make it back home
Papa Daddy drove his big green station wagon
with wood paneling on the sides
made me sit
in the backseat
in the middle
on the hump
every time we took a road trip
to the shore
or the mountains
or HoJo’s
__
we was heading South, man, South
__
I was
narrow and squirrelly
impatient
looking out windows
inquisitive
flipping kettle corn
into my watering mouth
or nibbling licorice and counting cars
__
I was five when we first hit the road
Pappy Daddy, Paw Paw, and me
__
Took me two years to understand
we weren’t
homeward bound
just taking the long way
__
Took another ten years to realize
there’d be no going back
***
Copyright © 01/09/2005 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
***
Spoken word by Christy Munson
_______________________
Author's Note: This poem was written as a free style piece and later recorded as spoken word. The music was created using an online music app and samples. The embedded link connects you with my one and only spoken word album: exposure. My husband and I might make the time to properly edit it one day, but in the meantime, we hope you enjoy it.
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Comments (3)
Great performance piece! Well done, Christy!
Oooo, I really loved the music! Absolutely splendid!
Wonderful, reminiscent poetry. Reminds me of our trips south as a boy from MN to MS every summer to my grandparents little brick house.