Spring rain is child and sting.Pallets of water stinging our skinHats to cover our eyes.Then in the distance the Majestic CyprusLilies dancing at their feet as they gaze uponTheir ancestor gave them LifeLeaves turned up to catch the spring rain. -Barry Sons 2018-
The day is overcast, The clouds no threat.Warm and sultry as only the basin can be.Wax bayou thick and lush with greenery. We head towards the bend near the mouth of the river. Longing to set foot on the ancestors island.Lilies in bloom jam against the bank, we stop to […]
Where the Ancestors Gather I weep! I scream for the ancestors.Men and Machines dreg at her scared sand barbuilt into an Island. A place to pray.A place to call on the ancestorsWhen oil spills. Who else can we turn to?Not the army corp of engineers !!! Oh Scared Island where […]
The Army Corps of Engineers at work yet again! They Dredge you up oh magic land that the river build ore years of high and low tides. With no regard for what it took for you to stand in place. No regard for your purpose, too shortsighted to see the […]
The tugboat’s lights break the darkness of the night against the black silhouette of distant cypress. I on Papa’s knee, while he sang to me; I was barely out of diapers.
The first poem was written for the study of the 4×5 ft work now owned by Mike Tidwell’s sister. I have yet to meet Mike but I do have an autographed copy of Bayou Farewell. TREE HOLDING BACK THE SEA I am the tree holding back the sea.Could you find […]