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  • The Music of Arkansas
  • Jay Griswold

Play on the fiddle and the mandolin. Play the sound of the wind in these hills. Play the mist that rises from the hollows.

Let the guitar be a river’s clear sound. Let the dulcimer speak in tongues. The clapboard church has felt the weight of many knees.

Cotton languishes in the summer heat. A copperhead coils beneath a rotted log. This is the blue waltz in heavy shoes.

The cemeteries are full of Confederate dead. The banjo remembers some of their names. An owl gazes over his shoulder at the moon.

The moon shines on corn in wooden kegs. A wildcat bristles in the woods and howls. This is the music of Arkansas. [End Page 261]

Jay Griswold
N. Fort Meyers, Florida
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