GARY
CLF member, incarcerated in NC

I am from persimmons,
from Karo syrup, and grits.
I am from the front porch,
wide, long, cool in the Southern heat.
I am from magnolias,
whose fragrance is the quintessential South.
I am from Sunday dinners and blue eyes,
from Joseph and Kathleen.
I am from the stiff upper lip,
from seen and not heard.
I am from back row Methodism.
I am from Glenwood and Randolph,
Guilford and Shropshire,
the Queen Anne II,
Icebox fruitcake, fried chicken,
homemade cream puffs.
I am from the Christmas ornaments
made of cardboard and glitter
that Pop bought during World War II
when metal and glass went to fight Hitler,
carefully preserved, precious, rare.
I am from Grandma’s tea set, fragile,
tea pouring from a dragon’s mouth,
Sitting out of reach upon the sideboard,
teaching me to value heritage, tradition,
family.

Gary
CLF member, incarcerated in SC

Over a pot she’d dice wild onions
add a “mess” of greens cut from her garden
toss in a chunk of salt pork
then feed us lip-smacking joy
Wells of goodness from humble fare
the magic of a Grandma
a quilt from precious scraps
a christening gown, an old shawl
cornhusks made into dolls
snowcream dusted with cinnamon
and just a speck of rum
Tuberose snuff, yeast-baked bread
pillowy, soft, just life her hugs