stalwart

stalwart

A Poem by m.s.early



The old corn mill on Tidewater Ave, Victoria, VA

Photograph by Robby Batte at Shutterbatte Photography


Stalwart


I remember men poppa called help.

 

They had darkened skin,

imperishable hides

that hung tirelessly on stalwart frames,

 

furrowed faces,

gullied,

erosion by rivers of sweat

over years of day-in-day-out,

dripped off hard lined, chiseled jaws,

 

hands as big flat cakes,

and as strong as rod iron vice grips,

 

the rasp of baritone voices

scratched raw from tobacco-smoke and profanity

that hushed when I drew near,

 

lungs that could process

smoke, red clay dust, gasoline fumes,

silo air, diesel exhaust,

and exhale without wheezing.

 

If my chores were done

Poppa took me with them

to the mill where corn was ground to grain,

and I leaned and perched my heel against the wall

just as they did while we pulled

from Orange Nehis and crunched Nabs .

 

For a while I could pretend

my hands were as strong as vice grips

and my eyes had seen what theirs had seen.

 

Some men changed from year to year,

ramblers and desperados hired on

with just as furrowed skin,

just as gravel voiced,

just as stalwart framed,

just as vacant stares recalling things

they'd never tell.

 

Every evening a judgeless meal in grandma's kitchen

made an equalizer of us all,

where every one reclaimed their manners,

humbly prayed with due respect and folded hands.

 

The evening would set

and they would go their way,

cigarette embers dimmed

as they neared the end of the driveway.

© 2014 m.s.early


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Reviews

yes, oh yes, the voice is beautiful

Posted 10 Years Ago


m.s.early

10 Years Ago

Thank you so much Emily :)
This is really grand. The imagery is just...so vivid! Awesome writing!

Posted 10 Years Ago


m.s.early

10 Years Ago

Thank you Brittany :)
You set the stage really well with a lot of detail and mood. I like your writing style. Very nice!

Posted 10 Years Ago


m.s.early

10 Years Ago

Thank you very kindly, Anne :)
You definitely have a gift for this particular type of story telling. I always feel like I am in a movie. You should try reciting some of them and adding that ...

Posted 10 Years Ago


m.s.early

10 Years Ago

Thank you KL. My sister says the same thing. Maybe y'all are on to something ;)
Very descriptive, I loved it, X!

Posted 10 Years Ago


This is the type of X. Silver poetry that I love. I will remember it.
Excellent imagery. Thanks for sharing this piece of history's puzzle.
Claire

Posted 10 Years Ago


m.s.early

10 Years Ago

Thank you Claire. You're very welcome...
Lovely poem and narration of a great idea. I love it!!

Posted 10 Years Ago


m.s.early

10 Years Ago

Thank you so much friend :)
In this piece I could breathe you....sharing your stored eyes...your infectious imagery. I felt emotional & humbled in the stanza : judgeless meal in grandma's kitchen
made an equalizer of us all,
where every one reclaimed their manners,
humbly prayed with due respect and folded hands.
This piece is truly note worthy and should be in a magazine for all to share. Excellent!


Posted 10 Years Ago


lost girl

10 Years Ago

I'm a believer :)
m.s.early

10 Years Ago

I'm a believer... I couldn't leave her... if I tried... sorry... lol
lost girl

10 Years Ago

wouldn't expect less :)
what a great story poem, you took me back...i could visualize and feel this.

and love the pic cause old buildings that once were in use and now are abandoned always fascinate me.

Posted 10 Years Ago


m.s.early

10 Years Ago

Thank you Jacob. We have a site dedicated to old buildings. Take a look at https://www.facebook.com/.. read more
Good memories for the narrator, lessons to learn and appreciate, memories to keep that resonates till modern times and things to recall in the hushed silence. A wonderful write...:)..............

Posted 10 Years Ago


m.s.early

10 Years Ago

Thank you for your appreciation, Sami :)
Sami Khalil

10 Years Ago

You are welcome...:).........................

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Added on March 19, 2014
Last Updated on March 20, 2014

Author

m.s.early
m.s.early

VA



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"A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep." -Salman Rushdie more..

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