THESE ROOTS
Unapologetic,
these roots
I come from,
They were never
told they
could win,
knew nothing
of overseas holidays,
401ks or the
luxury of dreams.
Their worries
were more myopic,
like what
could be made
for Sunday
dinner to feed
a table full
of hungry mouths.
Unabashed,
these roots
I come from,
ready to do
whatever it took to
take good care
of their own
especially when
it wasn’t easy
or comfortable.
Unrefined,
these roots
I come from,
they ran moonshine
when there was
more month
than money
and would rather
live on skid row
amongst the
street justice, gangsters
and prostitutes
than to owe a bank
one thin dime.
Simple,
these roots
I come from,
they lived their lives,
from birth
to death
without ever knowing
what it was like to fly,
only what it was like
to live.
I thank God
for these roots,
for I believe
in them
is stored
every ounce
of strength
I'll ever need.
-EVW-
(Photo is original. This is the only known photo of my grandfather Walton, taken in the early 1940's, just a few years before his passing.)
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Poetry should move us, it should change us, it should glitch our brains, shift our moods to another frequency. Poetry should evoke feelings of melancholy, whimsy, it should remind us what it feels like to be in love, or cause us to think about something in a completely different way. I view poetry, and all art really, as a temporary and fragile bridge between our world and a more pure and refined one. This is a world we could bring into creation if enough of us believed in it. This book is ephemera, destined to end up forgotten, lingering on some dusty shelf or tucked away in a dark attic. Yet the words, they will live on in memory. I hope these words become a part of you, bubble up into your memory when you least expect them to and make you feel a little more alive.
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