Rodrick Minor
Ode to the Golden Girls Before Sunday Service
I watch the day break
open its mouth with a mass
choir hidden behind its fangs
a taste to be young forever
where the moon flowers
the pastoral orchard —
I harvest a bowl of butta beans
a handful of plums
bunches of collard greens
Aint Shirley & Joyce rinse
the soil from the leaves
grandma boils the ham hocks
til a tender juicy hymn
mama bakes a cast skillet cornbread
they gossip & cackle each year
they woman to woman
of a simpler time each year
where the horizon blooms
a song at the edge