| Author | Date Entered/Modified | Views |
| Daniel A. Stafford | 4/6/2002 4:39:45 AM
10/8/2022 9:58:36 AM | 619 |
Nothin' Goin' But Corn Growin':
Charlotte, Honey,
You remember back in '59,
Adelle graduated,
Went to Prom,
Down at old Descatil High?
I think a board popped loose,
On the barn that day.
Aaron, Sweetheart,
I remember like it was yesterday.
Charlotte, Honey,
You remember back in '55,
Adelle said she was too old for tire swings?
I think a board popped loose,
On the barn that day.
Aaron, Sweetheart,
That one I remember,
I was scared and I cried.
I didn't really know quite why.
Charlotte, Honey,
You remember back in '62,
Adelle said she was off to Chicago,
Got accepted at the college there?
I think a shingle flew,
Off the barn that day.
Aaron, Sweetheart,
I remember.
Adelle saw the tears in my eyes,
Said "I got to, Mama,
Nothin' goin' here but corn growin' ".
Charlotte, Honey,
You remember back in '65,
Little Jimmy was born in Chicago,
And we couldn't afford to go?
I think the windmill froze up that day.
Too many hail stones in the blades.
Aaron, Sweetheart,
I remember I cried myself blue.
I couldn't hold her,
I couldn't hold my granbaby.
Charlotte, Honey,
You remember back in '83,
Jimmy went and graduated,
From Inner City High,
Adelle sent us that nice picture,
Him in the prom suit,
Pretty date and all?
I think the rope swing branch,
Broke out of the old Oak that day.
Aaron, Sweetheart,
I cried something terrible that day.
He seemed so young.
Charlotte, Honey,
You remember in '98,
Jim had that slick new laptop computer,
In the lawyer's office?
I think the barn caved in that day.
In fact, it clean knocked that big Oak down,
The one I carved your name in Honey,
After I kissed you on VJ Day.
Tree mightn't have made it,
But I still mean forever, Love.
Aaron, sweetheart,
I cried so hard,
He said "I have to, Mama,
Nothin' goin' there but corn growin' ".
And Adelle just looked away.
The two pale ghosts,
They stood chatting,
There along the country road,
Watching Adelle cry,
Watching the sad look on Jim's face.
The family cemetery was already gone,
All it's headstones moved to town.
As the bulldozer knocked the old farmhouse down,
Adelle reminisced,
She'd never remembered so many houses,
It had been open fields,
Bright blue sky,
Birds and wildflowers.
Little Tommy Praxton,
Used to live a mile down the road.
He'd died in 'Nam.
Now there was a gas station,
A mile down the road.
The old Descatil High,
That was a dark-windowed pile,
Just empty old cracked bricks.
No swings left on the cast iron pipe frames,
Weeds growing up in cracks in the parking lot.
Adelle watched the yellow Caterpillar dozer move.
The last thing to go was her old playhouse,
The one where Tommy Praxton,
Snuck in and gave her her first kiss.
She cried hot tears,
As the wooden door splintered,
The one her Daddy had made,
On her fifth birthday.
There! My God, there!
There was a wreath of dried flowers...gone.
Her Daddy had put fresh flowers on the door,
Every year in April on her birthday,
"Happy Birthday, April Adelle!"
Adelle stared at the machines,
At the naked black Earth.
Where Home had been.
At the developer's billboard sign,
"Merry Hollow Townhomes -
From the 150's..."
Jim wondered,
At all the old farm buildings,
All in such disrepair,
As he drove his tearful Mom,
Back to the big city.
How peaceful,
He thought,
The countryside was.
Charlotte, Honey,
I think Adelle was wrong.
Everything happens here now,
And there ain't a stalk of corn growin'.
Aaron, Sweetheart,
Adelle was crying today,
When she told me,
She couldn't get home.
I'm worried about her, Sweetheart.
Which way is home, Sweetheart?
Charlotte, Honey,
I hate awful to admit it,
But I think I've lost my way,
I think we're lost, Sweetheart.
Joe put on his hard hat,
And began pouring the concrete.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 04/06/2002
By: Daniel A. Stafford
Author's Comments
An Analog, uhm, I mean pen-first creation.... Where I live, everything is a construction zone. Farms are dozed over, and banks and gas stations and houses and town homes and discount stores are
going up everywhere, filling in all the open fields. Where they're not building there are signs announcing projects to come. I wonder at the stories of the places that vanish. Who played there? Who fell in love there? I go back to Wisconsin, drive past my grandparents' place once in awhile, it's getting a mite - decrepit - They closed the Catholic High, the factory where Nono worked 44 years, the one where Dad worked 53. The church where Noni & Nono were married, Where Mom & Dad were married, where I was baptized, it was saved from destruction by being converted to an angel museum. Funny, Mom hated the priest who painted over the sky full of angels on the ceiling when she was a little girl. Every time I drive in the country, the barns are older and the paint more faded.
There are less windmills, less silos, less railroads. Less peace and more pace. Less Home.
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| Author | Date Entered/Modified | Views |
| Daniel A. Stafford | 4/6/2002 4:39:45 AM
10/8/2022 9:58:36 AM | 619 |
Total Comments: 1
Comments |
| Ron Purtlebaugh | rjp@aug.com | http://www.underthepoemtree.com | 4/7/2002 8:00:39 PM |
Very nice Daniel, I too have seen it come and watched it go, Nothin' Goin' But Corn Growin': sort of gave me a feeling of, 'been there, done that' in a pleasant way, even though the memories we cherish sometimes seem to be wiped away without regard, such is life I suppose, well done.
Ron |
