Golden brown spears of wealth
Crackle in reverence under high noon
Freshly painted candy apple barns
Roast sticky sweet in the sizzling
Summer heat
Tongues sweat with an appetite
For the heart's rhythm and
Grandma's heart-stopping fried chicken
And your farmer-tanned skin is
Crisp with salt that the
Sweet tea fresh on my lips won't
Wash off
Crackle in reverence under high noon
Freshly painted candy apple barns
Roast sticky sweet in the sizzling
Summer heat
Tongues sweat with an appetite
For the heart's rhythm and
Grandma's heart-stopping fried chicken
And your farmer-tanned skin is
Crisp with salt that the
Sweet tea fresh on my lips won't
Wash off
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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