A shawl and bonnet she wore
by Lawrence S. Pertillar
From an era gone.
On a dusty road...
She walked bare foot,
As she picked cat-tails carefully
From the marsh dampened field.
Sweeping them against the stilled
Warm air and singing.
Watching as I leaned quietly
Against the carriage house nearby...
She sat beneath the willows,
That wept fresh moss from the trees.
This southern belle reminded me
How much I needed her to share,
The peace that made her heart rejoice!