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Home Bound
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| I recall my Mother’s words that when you leave home it's a long way back. Turning down a canopied trail, the old Baptist church, even more beautiful than first taken to heart, still graciously guards the old cemetery that faithfully cradles descendants of my kindred past. My dad had always said he married the prettiest girl in Macon County and brought her to North Carolina to "charm the state." But he left a lot of that charm in Macon County. Ask anyone who lives there. The pier glass pond, dressed by reflections needled knotty with pine forests and zigzag fences, spoke in hushed tones back to me the secrets once confided to them in greener years. Riding back down the destined road the drawn-out mile pasture seemed to greet a weepy farewell. As I crossed the North Carolina line, the songbirds chirped curtseys, and, just for a jiffy in my reflection, I was the prettiest girl in Macon County. My Mom was right. She always was. It's a long road between leaving and coming home. |
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Written By:Sarah Picklesimer
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E-mail:pickle@ctc.net
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Submitted: March 24, 2000
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