Me and my journal
Got those old country blues.
Turns out,
White hot heat
Doesn’t make
for a 'Brown River, Smile'.
So,
I cried some.
Then bought eggs. And flour.
And sugar. And butter, for cake
And made one.
Because young life during hard times
In old country
Isn’t left with much else
to do–
Just make something beautiful
And hope to get through.
Came to me after crying into a cake I baked for not apparent reason.