To the hymn of church and God and cold, cheap beer
A tangled life of rural roots and country boots
Fireflies were my streetlight cue to come back home
Where the homecoming queen works at Dairy Queen
And our horseshoes come covered in liquid gold
A jagged aggregation of rock ground down to a weathered line on the map
Backroad gravel carves a path of dust-covered stories
Where under roughness blooms our softness
Staring into the bonfire of youth’s autumnal angst
Ground mist rolls in quietly, shrouding the patchwork fields in a thick and suffocating peace
And I am content to be forgotten so I can find myself again
Libby Lane Creative 
I didn’t ever think I understood poetry until I read yours.
Thank you!
LikeLike
Ugh, Esther. You don’t know the power of that comment. I’m so glad this spoke to you. Such pride in where I come from and such love for my people. Xoxo
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful Lib…I can actually picture the peacefulness. Xo
LikeLike
Thanks, Barb. Love you!
LikeLike
Libby, the last line of your work I found to be very powerful. The entire work reminded me of my studies in rural sociology when I was working on my doctorate. It also brought to mind memories formed while living in Forgottonia for over 38 years.
Thanks for the memories.
Dad
LikeLike
Libby, Your poetry is so thought provoking and beautiful. I really enjoy reading the different poems you write. I still would like a published book of them!
Aunt Riz xoxo
LikeLiked by 1 person