Savannah, the Melungeon Princess and me
All lit our first or last
Depends on how you see the world
When five AM done past
The princess laughed at nothing
Savannah wryly smiled
And over the empty bottles
I quietly philosophied
“Have you ever met Busty Dusty
The queen of Rodeo girls?”
The Melungeon Princess offered
Giving her short hair a twirl
I said “no I haven’t, this Dusty must be new”
Savannah laughed sardonically
“She aint no ingénue”
The Melungeon Princess, passionate, claimed
“She’s no little girl
But Busty Dusty’s aged just like a fine Italian port,
She doesn’t fit the clichés
Goes only for what’s real
Charms and throws out repartee like a hillbilly Jayne Mansfield”
“Now,” I interjected
“Hearin’ that’s enough
Hell she’d probably remind me of my lost Kentucky love”
Savannah looked up scornful, from eyes a hazel hue
And almost spat “what’s it
With blue eyes and you?”
The Princess saved my honor
Said, “he’s still held me close
And what he did with Tara,” she winked
“Heaven only knows
So let’s forget our tattoos our failings and our scars
Cause even when our soul’s left earth them things won’t be gone”
The three of us just sat their
Pondering the heft
You just try living through the night
To find a zen like that
I glanced over at the Princess
And she kissed my forhead
Them freckled Melungeon cheeks just smiled
“Cowboy let’s us go to bed”
By Danny Wayne Cotton