The Grandmothers

I am from home-sewn dresses
From Thanksgiving's spiced pecans
And Sonic's chocolate malts (heavy on the malt).
I am from small, dying towns full of
Elderly people and cemeteries.
I am from old men sitting round the courthouse to gossip
And old women popping by for weak tea and everybody's health.
I am from volunteer flowerbeds.
I am from Wandalene.

I'm from the scent of Winston cigarettes over scrambled eggs and coffee.
I'm from the sound of old house shoes scuffing along dusty floorboards.
I am from Alma Lee.

I'm from mockingbirds scolding young squirrels
And calendars that note the comings and goings of deer.
I am from Georgia Raye.

I'm from longing, pain, and wistfulness
Born of decades of condescension and self-doubt.
I am from Paula Jean.
I'm from the house where daughters are silent,
Laughs are dangerous,
And smiles are suspect.