Sittin' on the Porch

 

Pick your Seat

Up the gravel driveway, to the top of the hill,

Then many steps up to the porch were no thrill,

The porch was a good 12 feet off the ground,

But the creaking of the porch swing made a soothing sound,

And the view from up there was incredibly sublime,

A bird’s eye view of the small town’s skyline,

With a backdrop of rolling hills engulfing the town,

We arrived at our mam-maw’s porch and looking down,

It was lined with gigantic hydrangea bushes across the front,

The pinks, blues and purples of the blooms were magnificent,

On the porch, an array of mismatched chairs spanned the length of the concrete,

With the front door separating two sections of seats,

The chair choices ranged from rocking chairs to metal folding ones,

To wooden straight-backed, caned-bottomed chairs, stools or even plastic garden ones,

Some had cushions on them, and some did not,

Sometimes it was cool there and sometimes it was hot,

As children we rushed to get the seat we desired,

For sitting on the porch for a visit was required,

Sometimes a box fan was necessary to make it comfortable,

A jacket in the fall or a coat in winter to make it tolerable,

My mam-maw sat in the porch swing, breaking beans, as a rule,

I chose a straight-backed chair because I was no fool,

In that type of chair, I could lean on two legs, up against the wall,

With my mother always warning, “be careful, you’ll fall”,

There is just something nostalgic about a straight-backed, cane-bottomed lean,

Along with the slam of a porch door, made only of screen,

Screened door, comfy chair, creaking swing, breaking beans,

The sights and sounds of country folks’ porch dreams.

Tammy Harvey

9/8/2026