by Do South | Mar 1, 2018 | Southern Lit
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] For Anita Out my back window, I can see the dreary light of winter, the tufts of grass gone to gold, the rose vines on the fencerow brown and tangled as a lady’s uncombed hair. It’s the tail-end of...
by Do South | Apr 1, 2017 | Southern Lit
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] This was years ago when we lived in the apartment that was so small I gave you the only bedroom, when I slept on the divan in the living room. Your daddy and I had been divorced three years by then, and you...
by Do South | Jan 1, 2017 | Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] Sometimes a girl just has to run. Sometimes her feet take over. This is one of those times, early morning, early January. I’m at the Alma City Park, on the trail popular with the older crowd at this...
by Do South | Oct 1, 2016 | Southern Lit
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] Violet can’t do math. She gets by okay, but salespeople and con artists could rob her blind, and she’d never know. The year she was supposed to learn long division and memorize her times tables,...
by Do South | Aug 1, 2016 | Southern Lit, Southern Verse
[title subtitle=”words: Marla Cantrell”][/title] We are lying belly down on the fishing dock at Cedar Lake, our arms hanging over the edge, the tip ends of our fingers rippling the water. I’m wearing a red bikini, and my hair is up in a messy bun I...
