Monday Poetry Blogging — Southern Song by Margaret Walker


Southern Song

~ Margaret Walker

I want my body bathed again by southern suns, my soul
        reclaimed again from southern land. I want to
        again in southern fields, in grass and hay and
        bloom; to lay my hand again upon the clay baked
by a
        southern sun, to touch the rain-soaked earth
and smell
        the smell of soil.

I want my rest unbroken in the fields of southern earth;
        freedom to watch the corn wave silver in the
sun and
        mark the splashing of a brook, a pond with
ducks and
        frogs and count the clouds.

I want no mobs to wrench me from my southern rest; no
        forms to take me in the night and burn my shack
        make for me a nightmare full of oil and flame.

I want my careless song to strike no minor key; no fiend to
        stand between my body’s southern song–the
fusion of
        the South, my body’s song and me.

I like this poem for its sense of place: both good and bad. And, I really, really love the final line of this poem: “the fusion of the South — my body’s song and me.”

Is there a poem with a final line that always grabs you?

Picture found here.

One response to “Monday Poetry Blogging — Southern Song by Margaret Walker

  1. Peter of Lone Tree

    From “On Death” by Gibran:
    Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
    And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
    And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

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