Childhood spent on a golf cart

riding through our pawpaw’s land

No path

No plan

We return when the sun comes down

and the bugs comes out

just in time for dinner

Granny's roast and boiled custard

blessing our lips

cushioning our hips

PawPaw sits next to her

making fun of her cooking

That is how you know

she did a good job

He can’t put it down

and he doesn’t eat much

He makes fun of her

All in good sport

She laughs and rubs his shoulder

Their eyes light up

in fermented love

They were the finest bottle on the shelf

He taught us to drive

at 14

He taught us to shoot

at 12

He made us laugh

He made us mad

He made us southern women

But not southern ladies

because what’s the fun

in that

Maybe we weren’t raised right

But we were raised well

He was a king

A pilot

A doctor

A hunter

A gentleman

A giver

A lover

A fighter

A father

Long live the king

And long live he shall

In our hearts

In our minds

In our children’s souls

In the spirit of this land

In the ripples of this lake

What I wouldn't give

to be on a golf cart

racing through the backwoods

late at night

nothing but the bugs

and the deer

and our headlights

as disturbance