Chela creative area
Kentucky Fried Chicken in Georgia USA
Tiny, dignified, her hard round felt hat
positioned firmly on her small head. Three
red daisies across the crown defying
Satan and all his works. And her man, back
slightly bent, bow legged, so tall that she
came barely to his shoulder; was sporting
a straw stetson – in its band a small black
feather. The leather bound prayerbook he
had carried to and from church lay gleaming
on the wipe-clean table, beside the fat,
crispy, succulent chicken. Kentucky
fried. Three pieces with potato steaming
in a pot, mashed with gravy. There they sat,
concluding their Sunday rituals. She
a black mask of timeless and enduring
patience. Above our heads a single gnat
hung whining, while cicadas sang in the
warm soft Southern night. World without ending.
Valerie Darville
Poetry by Anthony Fisher
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Kentucky Fried Chicken in Georgia USA
Quill
Lavoir de Semier
