The poet as a brooding young man in Mooresville. Photo by Adam Pupchek.
Adam had to write a poem emphasizing imagery for his online English class using Carl Sandberg’s “Chicago” for inspiration. Here is Adam’s homage to his hometown.
She is all way back when.
She is the railroad, the path to southern living.
She is like yesterday, Mooresville, a handful of memories.
Nascar faithful slow down, windows rolled down,
to see her rocking on the porch.
Icy glass of sweet tea in her hands,
Icy glass of Cheerwine waiting for the friend
As she rocks on the front porch.
Ice cream shop smile,
Sunday dinner manners,
Traditional Sunday dinner with ma and pa,
Fried chicken, mashed sweet potatoes and fried okra.
Classic stillness of a day in mid-August.
Out in the yard under the trees in a conversation to last days
Her lake, her soul, always warm,
Deep and dark with mysteries.
She knows people in those waters
Where their lives were lived the fishes now swim,
And new people on the waters with sails and skis
And the old churches and the new churches are still full
To the rafters, filled with people and verses.
Oh, how she loves churches.
And she loves trees and flowers and paths through the woods.
Prayer time can give way to time
Building tree houses and making forts.
Rocking on the front porch when the weather is hot and the rain falls
Nascar faithful slow down, windows rolled up.
Every day I wonder
How she gives us something to remind us
That something binds us
People who come and go
People now young and now old
She is a part of each one of us.
Humid night falls,
Dropping in like an old friend just the same
Making the waiting glass of Cheerwine sweat.