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Tennessee
Book Award - Peter Taylor Prize for the Novel
| 1st
Prize Melanie Williams 2nd Prize Carly Gilbert 3rd Prize Sarah Terpstra |
1st
Prize
Acoustic
Shadows
Melanie Williams
While the choirs
sing
their hymns to
cannon bursts miles
away,
the battlefield raises its
own
solemn chord.
In between,
silence
like souls
hangs in a leaden fog,
burdening
the shoulders
of those not yet
fallen.
The mourning risen from Shiloh
now rings beyond ears.
Not
even the dampened soil
knows peace.
once i might have been joshua Levon
but fate saved me from that ruin
born too far from wintertime
too near to easter
and woman as it is
might have been black haired as my cousins are
but the fiddler gave me my breath
blood to make me sing
hazel eyes
i've got the shine from the moon
in me
those wild mountain women are
my strength
my weapon of choice?
tongue above all others
the sharpest blade and fiercest
cut
what can I say?
they were all literary women
All blue stockings
Even whistlin' carl's Wife
and the Choctaw?
O yes how the Women sung lifetimes
from their fist fierce cut to
their last
ALL of these I am
I'm from
the hourglass,
marking the moments of my youth,
colorful Crayola creations filling the museum
halls of our home.
I'm from the small house,
the big house,
the creek whispering lullabies.
The warmth of winter fires
and the kiss of sweet summer lemonade.
I'm from the pine trees,
the oak,
the wind in the willows.
The familiar bite of Bradford pear pungence.
I'm from the dirt under my fingernails,
the rain in my hair,
kissing my eyelashes during fearsome spring
storms.
I'm from the earthworms,
so lovingly,saved from the shovels of judgment,
and the soft falling petals of my dogwood companion.
I'm from the Scrabble games,
the laughter,
the long hikes at dawn.
Daily dinners and hugs,
camping on Easter morning.
I'm from Cajun country,
the bountiful bayou beauty,
but blonde hair and blue eyes of a mysterious paternal
past.
I'm from Bertrand and Roland,
Gerken and Terpstra.
Long A's and dropped R's, harsh nasal formalities.
I'm from red beans and rice, gumbo, jambalaya.
Ice fishing in Michigan and church flavored peppermints.
I'm from "I'm rubber" and "you're glue,"
and promises that anything was possible
through God.
I'm from my questions,
doubts,
fears,
prayers,
ever answered, and yet ever there.
I'm from the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
Sunday hymns,
Wednesday dinners,
comfort, peace, and love.
I'm from a quiet town filled with vibrant people,
not much to do,
yet home just the same.
Atomic bombs and a war-torn past.
A young city, yet wise beyond its years.
I'm from sickness and sorrow
and prayer and prosperity.
Long hospital stays with nervous nights,
yearning for dawn.
I'm from crevasses and canyons etched on the faces
of long-forgotten ancestors.
Hidden away in plain view,
forever guarding and watching from dust black-and-white prisons
posted in hallways, on shelves, under beds.
I'm from the here,
the now,
the forgotten,
and yet to come.
I'm from this world.
I'm from God.
Tennessee
Book Award - Peter Taylor Prize for the Novel