2 thoughts on “8/22/24 Workshop – A Painting by William H. Johnson,”

  1. Renee

    Thanks to everyone for the lively discussion of my writing to the prompt. I figured I’d post it here:

    Apple-at-cha, not Apple-lays-a: my neighbor
    rides his mower downhill, once told me
    that’s how he knows. Still calls me the Parkersburg girl
    after twenty years. We porch sit and swap lies.
    The neighbors throw treats to my dog. Maples
    and oaks, but the chestnuts long gone. Can tomatoes,
    make chow chow, pickle eggs. When the wind
    rattles through, the haints might be coming. I tell
    them to come back when you can’t stay so long.
    I’ll see them again one of these first days. The ghosts
    always return when the sky’s full up with stars.

    (The joke is that Parkersburg is in Appalachia, just not the part I live in now.)

    Reply
    • Tony Errichetti Tony Errichetti

      Thanks for this Renee. I heard someone from Appalachia say that in Appalachia, people may throw an apple atcha!

      Who are the ghosts I wonder. One you love a place it’s difficult to leave it. The “Parkersburg girl” There’s that long-standing bias about the evil city and the wholesome country. What does it mean to be identified by or with one’s locality?

      Tony

      Reply

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