Oklahoma Twigs

1

I went home from school
Along the board walk
With spaces between the slats of wood
Where little pools
Of stagnant red clay water
Stared back at the flat dull sky.

Making and being
A part of a town that was old
And rough as the boards
Of the walk that swayed
Resounding with thinness
At each short step.

Home from a school
Where I learned to add
And read and write
Where I learned that some people cheat
And make it seem righteous
And some people hum while painting
A home-made Christmas card.

2

Annie Becky lured us to the graveyard
Where we wound among the tombstones
And the dark green ivy runners
Planted years ago.
We found tiny lambs
With curled frozen wool
And still little faceless angels
Who were never meant to fly.

Some one had gathered bits
Of colored glass to make a lasting pall
For one small grave;
There was no name--no time--no place--

We made up stories
For the chiseled names;
We gave new life to many who had died
Long before our time.
We felt the ivy slowly creep
And curl around our toes;
We did not know
It had the bleached out veins of age.

3

Who were they?

The old woman
Who hobbled along the street
Trying to walk without pain
Because the preacher
had laid his hands on her last night
And cast the devil out;
The people shouted,
"Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!"

The grown man-child
Who pushed his wagon
Filled with sweet, fresh cut sticks
Around and aroundAnd around the block.

The too-thin little girl
Who slipped outside the iron fence
To find someone to play her games
And listen to her made-up schemes.

Where did they go in the Red Fork night
When the heat and wind
Wrapped them round
Like a tight cocoon?