My first dialect poem. One day while working at my family’s business, I overheard my grandfather telling my mother these words. It was simple, just information, small talk. But when I heard it, it was one of those quickening moments when your eyes widen and you scramble to find a pen and paper. I wrote down the “poem” on the back of a receipt, exactly as I heard it. I love the old-timey feel of the words he used.
__________
I fount an old sack
Maw gave me
back ‘fore she died.
It had a few pennies,
some lucky charms,
and a foolsgold rock.
(1994)
