Knotty Pine Love

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Abstract

slumber.The rockers stayed on the porch and continued to rock of a sunset creak..creak…creak…So we heard ‘em, and we saw ‘em. I’m tellin’ ya, they rocked of a sunset. Nobody in ‘em, they just rocked, rain or shine. Together in sync usually, a slow, steady rhythm, like a waltz… creak, creak, creak…creak, creak, creak.But sometimes, oh, sometimes they’d be quarrellin,’ rocking hard and fast at different tempos — one be forward, the other back… Creak! Creak! Creak! Creak! Louder and faster, especially when a sudden storm come up, lightenin’, thunderin’ they’d be rockin’ loud and mean and nasty… Creak! Creak! Creak! Creak! Creak! Profanities hurling through the air at each other, snappin’ and cracklin’ till the rain finally starts.Then they’d slow down gradual and catch their knotty pine breaths like they’re plum wore out. Sometimes they’d even stop at the far end of a rock Gran Dad way back, Gee Maw all the way forward, passive-aggressive like, as if they was sayin,’ I ain’t speakin’ to you!!!!<

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/p>And they’d be that way all night long. Dead silent. No creakin.’ Till the rooster crowed and the sun come up. Then…there they’d go waltzin’ in time again, A steady, creak, creak, creak…creak, creak, creak like they kissed and made up and now they’re holdin’ hands again.Gran Dad and Gee Maw Been together longer than any couple this side of Sweetwater. No matter how desperately we need the wood or the cash, we’re leavin’ them on the porch as a reminder of what it takes for love to endure, really endure… Start fresh every day and never miss a sunset with your Honey. Pretty smart for knotty pine. Pretty humblin’ if you ask me…Marilyn Flower writes fast fun reads with a touch of magical realism to strength the imagination of socially conscious folks. Clowning and improvisation strengthen her during these crazy times. She’s a regular columnist for the prison newsletter, Freedom Anywhere, and five of her short plays have been produced in San Francisco.</article></body>

A reminder of what it takes for love to endure

Creak…creak…creak…Listen to their love call. Creak…creak…creak…A pair of old rocking chairs, knotty pine, Gran Dad and Gee Maw. Creak..creak…creak…Been together 67 years in all… My Great, Great Grand Pappy bought ’em at an estate sale over in Sweetwater, brought ’em home to set on the porch and catch him some evening sunset.

He caught his own sunset not long after — named pneu-mon-i-a, and upped and died. And not long after, Great, Great Grand Mammy drifted off to heaven in sweet slumber.

The rockers stayed on the porch and continued to rock of a sunset creak..creak…creak…So we heard ‘em, and we saw ‘em. I’m tellin’ ya, they rocked of a sunset. Nobody in ‘em, they just rocked, rain or shine. Together in sync usually, a slow, steady rhythm, like a waltz… creak, creak, creak…creak, creak, creak.

But sometimes, oh, sometimes they’d be quarrellin,’ rocking hard and fast at different tempos — one be forward, the other back… Creak! Creak! Creak! Creak! Louder and faster, especially when a sudden storm come up, lightenin’, thunderin’ they’d be rockin’ loud and mean and nasty… Creak! Creak! Creak! Creak! Creak! Profanities hurling through the air at each other, snappin’ and cracklin’ till the rain finally starts.

Then they’d slow down gradual and catch their knotty pine breaths like they’re plum wore out. Sometimes they’d even stop at the far end of a rock Gran Dad way back, Gee Maw all the way forward, passive-aggressive like, as if they was sayin,’ I ain’t speakin’ to you!!!!

And they’d be that way all night long. Dead silent. No creakin.’ Till the rooster crowed and the sun come up. Then…there they’d go waltzin’ in time again, A steady, creak, creak, creak…creak, creak, creak like they kissed and made up and now they’re holdin’ hands again.

Gran Dad and Gee Maw Been together longer than any couple this side of Sweetwater. No matter how desperately we need the wood or the cash, we’re leavin’ them on the porch as a reminder of what it takes for love to endure, really endure… Start fresh every day and never miss a sunset with your Honey. Pretty smart for knotty pine. Pretty humblin’ if you ask me…

Marilyn Flower writes fast fun reads with a touch of magical realism to strength the imagination of socially conscious folks. Clowning and improvisation strengthen her during these crazy times. She’s a regular columnist for the prison newsletter, Freedom Anywhere, and five of her short plays have been produced in San Francisco.