"An Ode to Georgia"
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I saw her from my hotel room in New Orleans. The day was hot and steamy with a swampy stench in the air. She sat on a blanket across the street and then the dance began. I watched her sponge bathe out of a faucet coming out of a short rock wall. Her black skin strategically covered leaving her unexposed.It looked like an art to me and I was amazed. She washed her garments, wrung them out and then snapped them vigorously in the air laying them across the same rock wall to dry.
Then she lathered and rinsed her hair and wrapped it in a rag turban. I marveled at this
ballet, all done with precision and with nothing exposed. She lay down on the blanket to
Then a preacher came by and stopped. Both were animated for quite some time, she more
than he. She was the winner as he gave up and moved on leaving her still mumbling and
shaking her head. I was spell bound now and didn’t feel in the least voyeuristic.
I took her some money and my Reader's Digests when I spotted her searching for a book in her bag. As I approached, I ask if I could join her on the blanket. She surprised me with her gesture for me to sit. I handed her the money and the books. She gave me the standard
"God Bless you". "Family?" I asked curiously and truly interested. "I don't want to talk
about family," she grumbled. "Enjoy your books,” I said smiling, and then I returned to my
I watched, with her unknowing, as she stretched out to read. My smile turned to a frown
when the policeman walked up to her, hands on his hips, hovering. She stood slowly glaring. I watched as she folded her damp clothing and put them in her canvas knap sack with the rest of her world. She trod slowly away commenting over her shoulder. The policeman held his authoritative posture.
The play had ended abruptly, dangling with no closure! I sat on the edge of my bed angry
and I found myself wiping a tear.
A short time later I went back to the window, the policeman was gone but there she was
pulling out her damp clothes and spreading them back on the wall. “She’s back!” I cried
out loud, laughing with delight and admiring her grit. What a lovely finale!
"If you have the chance to sit it out or dance, I just say Dance." writen by Mark Sanders recorded by LeeAnn Womack