I walked along the edge of the bayou
the child I had been, ran and laughed and played.
cushiony emerald green grass I trod on
my feet and made my heart smile.
hickory tree was still there, brave and tall,
small clouds floated above it, standing out
swatches of cotton against the denim sky,
golden sun completed the heavenly picture.
boat disturbed the water and its wake
ripples of gold-brown water to the shore,
little fingers reaching out to bathe and tickle
and aching naked toes.
again the other shore where long ago,
berries and climbed trees to pick muscadines.
the heavy vines we used to swing out over the bayou
let go just at the right moment to drop into the water.
rustic house I lived in when I was young,
stands. Someone built a car-wash right where Grandpa's garden was,
the State put in a new road and built a new bridge
where I used to tie up my little pirogue.
is one thing no one can ever change, though.
where I go or where I've been
what I've done, no matter the places I've seen,
bayou will always be the home I hold in my heart.
© 2001 Aline T. Meaux, Abbeville, LA