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Sarah Elizabeth Whitehead

Sifting Through Gravel

here come the good ol’ boys
dad’s drinkin’ buddies

the ex-husband of my aunt
eldermen who live in the community

men who work with Dad
men who bring their cars and trucks for Dad to work on

they pull into the gravel driveway
get out of their vehicles

on their way to our house
or the garage

their calloused
scarred hands

reach into their pant pockets and
pick the pennies from the rest of the pocket change

in a few flips of the wrist
these good ol’ boys

scatter shiny and dull Abe Lincoln heads
among the red gravel in our driveway

three years old big brown eyes
searching for copper in the red dirt and gravel

the smell of burning cigarettes and
blue ribbon beer in the air

I hunted Easter eggs
in a pool hall

I sat on Santa’s lap
at the smokey Eagle’s Club in Kevil, Kentucky

with the jukebox blaring
Santa waved at the woman behind the bar to bring him another beer

little girl hands sifting through gravel
big brown eyes looking for stripes and solids around green felt tables

a quiet voice cutting shyly through the sound of the wailing jukebox saying
“yes, I’ve been good this year”

looking for pennies
that appeared in the driveway

like raindrops-pennies from the sky
or maybe falling like apples from the trees

but they came from the pockets of bib overalls
and dirty blue work pants

By Sarah Elizabeth Whitehead
Copyright © 2004 Sarah Elizabeth Whitehead

You the sky I the earth

the air anticipates our meeting
the scent of rain suspended

quiet before the storm
You are sky I am earth

I find you there
your grey blue eyes

clouds gather roll rumble with
increasing speed darkening the light of day

the sky draws nearer to the earth
we embrace in a tender drop of rain
You the sky I the earth

rush of wind trees bend sway
deep breaths the air so heavy between us

our lips meet in a clap of thunder a sudden burst then
long drawn deep

traveling rolling becoming faint
fainter in the distance

another crash of thunder
surrounding us

a flash of lightning
spreading across the blanket of clouds

fingers stretch across the sky and
close in a grasp

holding close
our love
a cloud burst
You the sky I the earth

By Sarah Elizabeth Whitehead
copyright © 2004 Sarah Elizabeth Whitehead



voices call

from home

as I float from memory to memory

a champagne cork hits the wall

sadness hangs

kiss midnight





the calendar bows

sleep drifts in

you come to me in dreams

you tell me it’s alright

rain falls clouds stretch

touch earth yet remain skyward

roads wind there are no names

for the places I’m going

today cannot erase

tomorrow cannot erase

or dim the I love you I say

to you I love you

in this dream

in this memory

rain falls I stretch

to touch kiss you kiss

the forehead

of this new year

I sing

a lullaby

for what has been

for what will be



Sarah Elizabeth Whitehead

January 1, 2005

Copyright © 2005 Sarah Elizabeth Whitehead

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A True Tale of a Tall Trip. - Click Here To Read an Excerpt from the Sarah Elizabeth & Ron Whitehead book "Western Kentucky: Lost & Forgotten, Found & Remembered"

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