I grew up in Georgia

I grew up in Georgia

Georgia, where
Red clay runs like blood
Staining knees and elbows
Socks and shoes of all who
Tromp in it

Georgia, where
My mother’s simple drapes could barely
hide the summer sunlight streaming in
Where windowsills are graveyards for
Flies and wasps and spiders

Georgia, where
Pine sap glued us all together like
Japanese beetles on the grapevine

Georgia, where
June bugs on assault dive-bombed our heads or
Died as ammunition for our
Whiffle ball wars

Georgia, where
Thistles slid like splinters into my feet
And bees and snakes and creepy things
Taught me to be nervous

It was Georgia that cut me loose
That brought me up out of its
Ruddy ground
Grass-stained, scabby, and near-sighted
But full of heart and not afraid of bruising