On US-41

On US-41 1920 1440 Mary Harwell Sayler

Somewhere near anywhere Georgia
where the Methodist churches are
every bit as big as the Baptist, where
roads run parallel with railroads
and the freeway straightens out
the horizon, lies an old graveyard
where giant trucks have gone to rest –
their rust seeping into a place for parts
from semi’s that sputter out down South
where truckers often have hungry mouths
to feed somewhere back home. A sign
on another sleepy side of town signals a
retirement center where a sweet-looking
lady lends a worn hand to a row of elderly
women wearing out the wooden rockers
on a wide, wrap-around veranda where
circles of weary faces lift like daisies and
black-eyed Susans, seeking the sleepy sun.


— From Faces in a Crowd

Header photograph © Jason D. Ramsey.

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