Stacey Lynn Brown

Forgive me, Pumpkin, Gaither’s true

Forgive me, Pumpkin, Gaither’s true

daughter, for taking her from

you before the sun rose every day

and returning her, spent, at night.

I didn’t know anyone could

love or need her more than I did,

those five days of your motherless week.

Audio
    • Biography
  • ABOUT THE POET Stacey Lynn Brown
    • Poems
  • Stacey Lynn Brown
  • When I missed the South the most
  • In Springfield, Oregon, I hung the state
  • When it came time, I would leave the South
  • Gaither Memory, Every Working Day
  • Forgive me, Pumpkin, Gaither’s true
  • Gaither Memory #42
  • If you would or could not do/for yourself
  • Sherman’s march snaked through the South
  • Kristan clogged to Rocky Top
    • Fishouse Poems © 2023