MISSISSIPPI BY ALEXANDER J MOTYL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 21
Look, I really know
that morning mists
on the Mississippi
have been done to death:
They’re as tired as Huck Finn must’ve been
after paddling downstream with Jim.
But I seen dem—honest injun I did—
from the levee in Donaldsonville
after spending the night at the Victorian B&B,
where Judy asked, “How y’all doin’?”
as she opened the screen door
and gave me the key
to my room on the second floor.
Later that morning I looked again,
but the sun shone brightly
and the mists were all gone—
revealin’ nuttin’,
I reckon, ‘ceptin’
the Mississippi.