I loved her, lost her, and found her again. By Tom Poland, A Southern WriterTomPoland.net I fished many a farm pond as a boy. When I left my red-varnished cane pole for Miss Zebco, I fell in love. I filled my Johnson & Johnson first aid kit turned tackle boxContinue Reading
The gardenia’s perfume remains as magical as ever. By Tom Poland, A Southern WriterTomPoland.net Squall lines, thunder and lighting, and tornadoes signify the changing of the guard. Winter’s heavy air gives way to lighter air, and soon air conditioning will cool the masses. The night air will be locked away.Continue Reading
By Tom Poland, A Southern WriterTomPoland.net Late 1950s. May 1. Riding with Dad by a cement block house. White. A few clothes out back on the clothesline. Diapers mainly. A tricycle with a wheel missing lay over on its side. A few rusty chairs shaded a patch of grass. CloseContinue Reading
By Tom Poland, A Southern WriterTomPoland.net I visit cemeteries never knowing what I’ll find. February 10, a cemetery gave me a story that has the elements of a great movie—risk, bravery, tragedy, the largest fire in the country, and a drunken sailor with wobbly feet. The story actually began whenContinue Reading
The split-rail fence, in harmony with the earth. By Tom Poland, A Southern WriterTomPoland.net A fence has become more than a way to mark property — delineate — as a five-dollar word goes. “I put that fence up to delineate precisely where my line runs.” Redundant. To delineate is toContinue Reading
By Tom Poland, A Southern WriterTomPoland.net Man Will Always Wage War I remember the Vietnam anti-war protests at the University of Georgia. Some group firebombed the Army ROTC building and I recall four protestors walking abreast holding a “Stop War Now” banner. “Stop war now” chanted the throng behind them.Continue Reading
By Tom Poland, A Southern WriterTomPoland.net Mom never darkened the door of a juke joint, but that didn’t stop her from rendering a harsh judgment. “The only people who go to juke joints are drunks and floozies.” I have a hunch where her belief came from. Early in her marriage,Continue Reading
By Tom Poland, A Southern Writer TomPoland.net New Orleans-bound, Georgia Dawgs Andy and I left Columbia, South Carolina, December 31 at 7:30 am Headed to the Sugar Bowl, our rooms waited at a Marriott in NOLA, that lady-like acronym for a city with its share of fame, and some willContinue Reading
By Tom PolandTomPoland.net No more glory years, a beauty nonetheless. A junkyard hiding in woods surprised me. Old cars and pick-ups sat at odd angles, a senior citizen social of sorts. The years had extracted their toll. A sedan’s hood was up as if she had died in the midstContinue Reading