Uncle Johnny was a drunk
who knew the value of rocks
to a child that guzzled fantasy like Mad Dog.
The stories were a family bible
that he protected from the slur:
Sour grains are bad spirits.
The hues on a snake tell you how much poison is in it.
I listened to Pappy's funeral from the womb
but I know
he knew mushroomsand wild strawberries,
married his brother's widow,
carried water fromthe rock springs
all of his life
that fed the pools that I swam in
minnows chasing my blond hair.
Uncle Johnny said I was his father's soul
reborn pale.
The wood poisoned him
on a Wednesday night
when he was wishing he had a woman,
but was walking the dry beds of Forkland
looking for flint and arrowheads.
(c) 1995 Susan Paige Shoemaker