Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal

From My Old Room

Jennifer Dix


Coffee cups clink against saucers
Silverware rings against plates
My parents eating a morning meal
Of buttermilk biscuits and sausage gravy
Sitting at the trestle table my father built

Murmurs of conversation, broken words
Drift up the stairs to my pillowed ears
"grown woman," "cold front," "garden"
Kitchen cabinets and drawers bang shut
The wood stove rattles with added fuel

The rocking chair's lulling rhythm
Sounds of Bill Monroe, the Irish Tenors
Jim Croce, Garrison Keillor float upward
Mother's soft laughter at his punch line
All favorite sounds of my visits home

***

Jennifer Dix resides in Springfield, Tennessee, with her husband and two cats. She has a BBA from Austin Peay State University and is currently employed in the field of market research to support her writing habit. She has been published in the House Organ, a
publication of Vanderbilt Medical Center and in local publications in her home county. Her essay, "Small Town Reverie," and her poem, "Vanilla," were published in the book Muscadine Lines: A Southern Anthology.

© Jennifer Dix

Muscadine Lines: A Southern Journal ISSN 1554-8449, Copyright © 2004-2012