Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Loving Roy

The words of this poem spilled onto the page as though spoken in my ear by someone begging for understanding and forgiveness.  After several years his story still echoes in my mind and I decided to share it here.

"I'm sorry, Roy, I had to do it
Ain't nothin' goin' right anymore.
I done my best to take care o' you
and this here farm
It weren't easy with you
bein' crippled an' all but
we done alright, jus' you and me.
Only now the cancer's got me
and we both know'd
I'd soon be layin' 'side o' mama
Nights I couldn't sleep,
I heard ya cryin', b
eggin' me
not to let them social fellers
carry ya off to the city
where ya ain't never been
and put ya in one o' them nursin' homes
where ya'd never agin
be close to someone ya loved,
never hear the whip-poor-will, or the peepers, or the owl,
never see the fawns runin' 'cross the field
or the hills a-far (afire) with color in the fall,
never smell the honeysuckle
or a field, fresh plowed,
I love ya too much, Roy,
I jus' couldn't let them fellers do that to ya.
If there's a heaven, I know you're there with mama now
If there's a hell, I reckon that's where I'll be in a minute.
God forgive me, I didn't know what else to do.
I'm sorry Roy, I had to do it."