#95 THE PORCH FACED NORTH
#95 THE PORCH FACED NORTH
(Americana)
Told my daddy "Come on, it can't go there."
Pointed to where it sat in the plans.
Steamy Monday morning in our office,
Designing the house he'd then build by hand.
Expected more yelling, today he just shut down.
Tried all morning to get him to discuss.
He kept sketching, drinking coffee.
Slight smile when leaving,
said "Guess I've lost your trust."
Often times it'll be too cold,
And almost never enough light
Who builds a north-facing porch?
Damn certain he's not right.
Not long after, I up and moved north,
Our talks dropped from rarely to none.
Then fifteen years ago I got the call,
His time in this world was done.
At his house, east side of Waycross,
August afternoon heat was searing.
But when I joined the mourners in that porch,
Here's what I felt and was hearing.
Smiles, low talking, cool breeze,
And just the right amount of light.
That damn north-facing porch,
Couldn't believe he was right.
Mama lived in that house, rest of her time,
Porch checkers when it rained, porch tea in sunshine.
Now it's my sister's -- she's raising two boys
She says porch breakfasts,
summer mornings are a joy.
At the top of the list when I'm
Counting regrets late a night.
That old north-facing porch:
Never told him he was right.
When they bury me way down deep,
I'll find out if my spirit still wants to keep
Watch over the place that makes me smile.
And then I can sit in my north-facing porch,
For a long... long, long while.