The Good Bottom Land

Great Grandfather
I was there.

The site of your homestead
In the good bottom land
Is vacant.

Remaining are the support stones
Upon which your cabin rested.
Grasses are tall
And wave in the Arkansas wind
As if to say farewell
To the sweet life once present
Near the river’s bend.

Not far are the leanings
Of your old pole barn
The last trace of the farm
You labored over
Until your last day.

Great Grandfather
The bulbs planted along
The wide front porch
Still bloom
A testament to the care
And love
You showed the land.

Great Grandfather
I will not return.
It was enough to stand
Upon the seed land
Of my genesis.

One day soon
I will see you
And the embrace we will share
Will be the fullness
Of what I went to your home site
To discover.

Great Grandfather
You are in me
As much as are those old corner stones
Those bulbs
That bottom land
The ramshackle pole barn.

Great Grandfather
I hope to make you proud.