Olde Towne Slidell

Lampposts and crape myrtles,
The night-blue sky,
Loom and recede,
Loom and recede,
And the chains in their eyebolts creak their joyful song.
She beams under a floppy straw hat,
Describing an arc
Like the carpenter bees of childhood
Tethered with horsehair and straining for the sky.
We are all children once in a while,
Or ought to be.

Here's your sign > ; )

"Southland in the Springtime"

My apologies for the scarcity of new material recently. Jess took a fall down the basement steps a while back—she's fine, but the laptop took a hit. Flyover Country is back for the moment, thanks to some help from Ellie. Here's one for (and from) the road, by the Indigo Girls: