March 20,
2015
In the
South’s Summer
Her
shoulders were broad.
Her back
was straight.
Her skin
was brown,
(The kind
not fake).
Her legs
were long.
Her feet
were smooth.
Her step
was sure,
(She knew
“her groove”).
Her face was
fair.
Her eyes
were big,
A honey
brown,
Or the
color of figs.
Her lashes
curled,
So
beautifully long.
Her name
fit her,
A
summertime song.
“Fawny!”
Meg’d call.
Her head
would raise.
She’d amble
over
From where
she grazed.
My cousin’s
cow
Became
Meg’s pet
When the
horse desired
Meg
couldn’t get.
Meg loved
her pet.
I see them
now
Still in my
mind:
The child
and cow.
I haven’t
seen Fawny
For quite
some time,
But that
sweet, tan cow
Still stays
in my mind.
What
beautiful days
We spent
with her
‘Neath pecan
trees
In the
South’s summer!
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