Where The Southern Girl Grows

Where The Southern Girl Grows

Some call home the simple abode where they grew up, and to others it’s the cozy place where their presence caused such a fuss.

Yet there are those that are rare like me, that simply find themselves at home in the great outdoors of this blighted society.

Each one of us, even to this day (there are many more than one can fathom) has coined our own phrase or pet name per se.

Something catchy that fits the collective of their local area, to identify with one another so they can stick together.

It’s no different where I hail from. We all wear our names, as silly as they may seem, like a royal coat of arms.

Myself, I find I’m most at home outside city limits. Easier still, suffice it to say, “smack dab in the thickets.”

I spent my childhood, and then my youth, always in the company of trees. I swear it’s the truth.

Later the answer would come to me as to why this was. Simply put, the company of trees being more trustworthy than that of mere humans.

So, when I go home to visit with old friends, and yes, the persons too. I take long walks through trail so overgrown the briars have no end.

I glide along amongst the trees, knowing I'm in the company of friends. Not fake ones either, for all my secrets they did keep.

No, friends like these you'll be hard pressed to find coexisting with modern mankind.

A gentle whisper always precedes me, racing quickly throughout the forest, dashing from tree to tree.

When I listen closely, I can catch a word here and there, that alludes to the conversation before my arrival. Of which has become so rare.

Any human for that matter, with a truly open mind, can hear the whispers of the trees, and what they think of mankind.

Simply put, no sugar coating, they debate vehemently, throughout the centuries of how inept we can be.

To me though, its where I call home, because they're such loyal creatures. Not to mention so beautifully majestic.

As luck would have it, I've not visited one place that didn’t have some trees. A place for me to walk and escape society.

The trees I'm most fond of, grow along the great river beds, and ne’er to be considered an equal to the varieties from urban yards.

Their bold uniqueness is in name, and age, and size, and place, to name just a few. For their kind knows nothing of color, creed, or race.

Oh to think we could all be the like natives of my lands, we too could live for thousands of years reaching heavenward with our hands.

Alas we're doomed, to live and die, our hearts filled with toxic greed. Never knowing the well-kept secrets sheltered beneath the trees.

So, when I tell you my home can be found in any wooded area. These words are penned not just figuratively but quite literally.

Denise Lum

September 2021