"Flags in the Un-Snoped Bear Dust" - David Oates




"Flags in the Un-Snoped Bear Dust" - David Oates
 
 
            That proud, unvarnished head lying like a flag in the dust, though not yet realizing what he should have known before he came into the wisteria-ed sunporch among the poor old Negroes looking from their dark, silent, ever malleable, never bending strength of servitude (and then the rest--all of it at once as though someone had turned on the tap in the horseyard and the water, cold, clear, rushing hard but not yet frozen in that deep well, cracked the ice on the trough as the mule watched in skeptical amazement), nor even stopping to think, but just falling and groping and trying to fly like some bright comet in autumn, and that not really it either--wait, wait!--but like that--but wait a minute--unique in its extreme of the old rebel colonel great-grandfather doing foolish and wonderful things at Antietam with his trousers unbuttoned, or even as his children fade into brick-box suburban barbecue rotisseries, distinctive not even then, rushing, galloping, sliding, across that incredible and unincompassable distance before the consummation of the sentence.
 
 
(2013 photo by Michelle Castleberry)

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