OF THIS, MY TOWN
Barbara Lloyd Attaway 1947 (Beaumont, Texas)
This air is hot and heavy. It's humid!
I'm finding it hard to breathe this,
Damp, sulfur-smelling mess.
I tell my lungs, "Take a shallow breath,
We ARE living on the edge of the oilfield."
Sounds flow lazily in this steamy mist.
Seems safer to listen than breathe, so I do...
To birds chirping, a flutter, a who-who-whooo..
Then the guttural roar of a train runs through.
As the birds take flight, I am hit head-on.
Neighboring musical chords declare, "Yesterday,
All my troubles seemed so far away."
Someone else's troubles, or mine"?
Troubled notes clickity-clack; fading away,
And riding that train, they blow right on by.
I'm on the front porch swing,
On this hot, sticky, oily-smelling night,
Listening to the constant up and down plight
Of an ancient pumping-jack out of sight
Beating thump-thump, thump-thump.
Recalling that childhood nightsound
I question, "just how many strokes
Have you made all these many nights?"
"As many and as strong as your own heartbeat
Thump, thump, thump'" it's cadence pumps.
So, like a pouting child, I swing
Breathing the damp, stinking air
This old heart pumps with the pumper there,
And I embrace this place, my loving share
Of the sounds and smells OF THIS, MY TOWN.
My heart beats in time with the pumping jack,
My lungs inhale the familiar air
My ears hear mournful, whistling trains,
I swing, dreaming of cooling rains
Surrounded by things common and rare.
About this poem
Reminiscing the sounds, smells and days of my childhood in an oil-patch town in south Texas.
Font size:
Written on January 01, 2018
Submitted by barbaradattaway on September 07, 2021
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 1:15 min read
- 4 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | AXXXX XBCBX XCXCX DEEEX AXXXX DFFFX XFGGF |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 1,414 |
Words | 246 |
Stanzas | 7 |
Stanza Lengths | 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5 |
Translation
Find a translation for this poem in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"OF THIS, MY TOWN" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 10 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/108948/of-this,-my-town>.
Discuss the poem OF THIS, MY TOWN with the community...
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In