The Collection | Eastern North Carolina Now

    So, I have shown you one poem, now I am showing a second. I wrote this one on a Sunday afternoon, just as I wrote this last one, but I have no intentions to put melody to this one, but that could always change ... This poem could change.

    My inspiration was from an image I made of the trestle fording the Pamlico, which was a haunt of mine back in the early 1960's, in Washington, NC, when I was a child growing up on East Main Street. I guess you could say, I was an 'extra-free-range-child'.

    There is a good chance I will continue to produce these stanzas of words and rhyme and, moreover, an image of my world.

The trestle fording the Pamlico was a great place to catch Blue Crabs as a young feller: Above.     photo by Stan Deatherage     Click image to expand.

The Collection           lyrics by Stan Deatherage    melody is not in concept at this point
Sitting upon these rails of a child's wonder - true and bold,
Legs dangling, tar stained and thin, in the Summer's blaze;
And gazed upon the swirling Crabs, blue and crazed,
Enjoying a temporary meal that I, so kind, provide;
Of fish heads dangling at a cording's end,
Amongst the pilings barnacled, wet and staid,
Pincers grappling as the meat provides,
Sustenance held, but, for a while;
Bastion pail beckons a prison strong,
Whence, hot popping pot forms a last reward.

                 - Stan Deatherage, July 26, 2015

The Pamlico River where the trestle crosses its narrows before the sunset of a fine day, in July, at sunset: Below.     photo by Stan Deatherage     Click image to expand.