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By coujeaux Date: 2004 Oct 20 Comment on this Work [[2004.10.20.11.51.7896]] |
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'Twas thoughtful gaze came over Miss Delilah a sultry August dusk; tranquil sea seemed to echo mood, And as she sat at the luncheon table with Misses Ruby, Scarlet and Marva Mae each revelled in solitude. To each of these antebellum southernelles life had been kind indeed; none but finest of livery and fare, Bedecked in elegance that trickled three proud generations down, each daughter willed the lion's share. Over four decades of their acquaintance, husbands had come and gone or been ignobly brushed away, Giving them ungrateful children and other justifications for their necessity of whiskey 'pon break of day. Reflection seemed apropos that Sunday eve, sermons that day unexceptional, having worn on a nerve, Only quick uptick in oceanfront winds outdid Father Samuel's diatribes on all getting what they deserve. To see each woman as townclock struck eight their faces betrayed no shift, even Ruby's as she scribed, One hour closer, they noted, and on that realization each saluted the other's good fortune then imbibed. On Gulfstream horizon cumulonimbus lightshows mushroomed out emerging stars, indicating time to go, Evacuations 'long coastlines took a ferocity oddly contrasting ease in which the ladies enjoyed the show. Now the time chimed of nine and no retreat had occurred; each sixtysomething belle rejoiced in the gale, Corked in chardonnay bottle they'd finished that night was a chronicle of their reluctance in careful detail. Behind passage of the hurricane, devastation was utter; no trace of them remained, assumed lost to sea, Only memory of their sacrifice in legend served to remind of their presence, as they believed it should be. Then five years later, 377 miles away, fishermen found their floating revelations and abridged, it read so: "To truly live well, death's a dignified affair, who better than friends to prepare for untold fathoms below?" 08/12/2004 |