The Carolina sun breaks the night
A rooster crowing on the countryside. Rays
Of light splash against the dandelions.
Laughter surrounding the area, while kids break out
Of their trailer homes.
The steaming gravel, hot enough to
melt hell itself burns through the soles of
those not fortunate to own a new pair. A winding
road, from an intersection to the boonies,
passes a red trailer set back in the distant field. Two
Acres of green, flourishing grass, envelop this
home. A walk down the path, dirt circling the humid air,
Rocks flying everywhere as my little feet kick them
around. A woman stands waiting at the end of
my walk, she has taken care of me the last five years, this
place I call home, the land I roam, all her
possessions. The raggedy stairs, the peeling paint are
so familiar to me. Innocence has not yet been
Broken in this countryside home. Strolling to my
room means a step into the small dim kitchen and past
the dining room enclosed with green carpet, there's a chair
That constantly fights with me every time I pass,
It and my poor little knee have become the best of
friends, I have much bitter resentment toward
This chair, but this doesn't faze it, it just sits
there. A room in the back of the trailer, toys cover the floor,
This is my sanctuary, where I lay my head at night. The sounds of
Children my age playing outside catches my ear. I can hear
Double Dutch rope hitting the gravel ­repeatedly, feet skipping. This
Noise will continue throughout the night most likely,
Into the breaking of a new Carolina Sun