by M.R. Williamson
Down in the hollow—or is it a valley?
Maybe holler. (We are in the South after all.)
Burnt and bruised, an orange moon
Lying solidly, heavily—imagining the initial thud—
now quiet in its repose.
Letters peaking and quietly speaking—DING!
but short, falling.
No more players,
no more prayers,
in that old familiar fashion.
A different discourse now—
M.R. Williamson was born in Homestead, Florida, and spent her childhood in Miami. As a teen, she and her family moved to North Georgia, where she has lived ever since. South Florida and North Georgia, despite both being in the South, are very different places, and the juxtaposition of the two has had a profound effect on the way Williamson processes life. Read Williamson’s previous work in Deep South here.