Back Porch

Wooooooweee she got a big back porch!

Said in a Momma Odie, born in the bayou, raised in the water, tanned by the sun, sweetened by the beignets, toughened by the gators - or should I say haters - molded in the mud, spiced by the gumbo, loved by the town, feared by the youth, grown by the ancestors, used by God, sheltered by her home, supported by her old rocking chair that sits on the back porch for matinee showings of the neighborhood happenings, for early morning coffee and Jesus, for midday lemonade and cookies, for midnight prayers and messages, and passing faces of visitors of past present and future.