Listening In

Strangers on the porch.

brown wooden chair on grass

After the brimstone men were gone marching, the women gathered on porches and in kitchens near us as we played, and sometimes we would sit at their feet and in their laps, pretending not to listen to the stories they told as they rocked back and forth, pretending not to wait with any hunger for the moments when they would break into laughter, and song.


Inspired partially by Rhiannon Giddens.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

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