Art by Author
The Chickasaw Farmer…
“A tribute to my Daddy”
Rickety ole man stood on the cotton
Wagon a tin of yellow salve in his
Hand.
Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man
A hot southern sun hides behind the
Willows on muddy Flint Creek, cotton
Pickers sweat falling on parched lips
Taste like salty brine while they wait
For the ole man to call “quitting time”.
Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man
Young, old, children, women and men
Bloody fingers cut by the barbs of the
Cotton boll dig into the old yellow salve
Tin.
Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man
Tar bottom sacks filled with soft white
Gold weary feet follow two old sway
Back mules down a rutted road.
Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man
Crimson clouds from wagon wheels
Whirl around tired bodies and drained
Minds; feels like pickers been
Working in the cotton fields since the
Beginning of time.
Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man
Mules stop at the fork of the road as the
Cotton pickers walked into the dark of the
Night the Ole man’s heart filled with
Appreciation; cause he’s just an old
Chickasaw farmer trying to
Survive inside a “White Nation”.
Rickety ole wagon
Rickety ole man
©2019.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree
Books by author at Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com…
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The Last Chapter 
I love this poem!! The imagery is so vivid, and the refrain is very effective. Kudos! I would also say that this poem is meant to be read aloud.
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Yes, thank you. E.
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beautiful 🙂
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Thank you. E.
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