† Elizabeth

The people of that town who murmured to themselves “young love” in a huff as they watched the preacher's daughter run into the vet’s son’s arms, did they eventually stop looking up, and mistake the trees rustling and the wind blowing for that thorough embrace for the rest of their day?

Those children who grew up scraping their knees on grass, watching the Cain’s girl sneak the Tucker’s boy through the back screen door after dinner, did it take all of them to grow all the way up and notice those kids who always seemed so much older than them, were finally the younger ones?

Did the teachers in school who gave up calling home when Miss Ethel and Mister Willoughby were not in attendance ever wish they had read their papers a little more intently? Find the signs, make them stay after class for a chat, or God forbid, call home?

Oh how sometimes I wonder how that old forgotten town of Shady Grove went on with their lives after the tragic and all too soon passing of Willoughby Tucker, did they say a hushed thank the Lord, that he now was not there to protect her, did they wish a little wish that she would soon follow after, and pray a harder prayer when they discover their wish had come true?

Was that what it would take for them to be wanted in the city limits.

Was there shock? Did they know it was coming all along? Was there a long silence that came over the mourning town, was it over by morning?

I wonder if blood from their knees is still dried on the tree bark, if Ethel’s hair is still stuck in the wired fence from that Fourth of July, if Willoughby’s favorite book is still tucked between those lockers down the main hall, if their laughs are still in the air and their shushed voices between the church pews, I wonder if time is a phantom that is not so forgiving to that old town of

Shady Grove.

and then i'd say to you, "we could take to the highway with this trunk of ammunition, too"

i'd end my days with you,