Still Southern Night

 
Lying quiet on a still southern night

Toes turned down between sheets tucked tight.

Windows open to let in a breeze

Snaking through the Pecan leaves.

Temperature measured by the cricket’s song

Of a child’s summer that seems so long.

Smell of cedar and pinewood walls

Distant night trains whistle calls.

Plans and schemes fill the head

All held prisoner in the bed.

Ride the go-cart, then the swing

Run the horses round the ring.

Pull the okra from its stalk

Take the calves for a walk.

Rig and bait your new cane pole

Take your brother to the fishing hole.

Now pray, pray for sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

Now with the world all is right,

Lying quiet on a still southern night.

Ruby Jean Sanders