Before I moved here I had
never seen a
blue heron
standing in a pond
wrapped in a layer of fog.

Never heard a mandolin
or bluegrass music played
up on the stage,
under the stars.

Never tasted
cold, crisp Ale-8.
Bottle opened
against the edge of the counter.

Never heard a
turkey call
so familiar now,
or deer antlers
knock at night.

Never savored
mint julep,
bourbon balls,
or homemade
pimento cheese.

Didn’t know tobacco
in all its incarnations;
beauty and life and death.
Tobacco stick,
tobacco worm,
tobacco barn.

Didn’t know a waller from a holler,
how a camera could make a picture,
a teacher could take up an assignment,
I could make a grade.

But then my heart had never smiled,
or been loved a blue million,
or not cared to do something
and meant
I didn’t mind.

-Maggie Brewer