Ages Agone Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

There ain't much left of them old days
When ramblin' men trod flats near bays
An' mangrove swamps 'long tide washed cays
Hid gator nests an' otters' ways
There warn't no need for shame or praise

Them days are gone that time done took
An' turned a yellow hallowed book
O' native ways stomped out by rooks
That nature's whisp'ry ways forsook
Pokin' and stompin' sacred nooks

Ages agone an' times long past
A railway pushed its way an' cast
Pines and palmettos in a last
O' iron snakes that run too fast
Hackin' and packin' cypress masts

There ain't no use in cryin' now
Them flats are dead, no good nohow
Ain't fit for fishin' or to throw
A pole at gators' iron brow
Or crawl home with a deer in tow

Time was we skimmed canals at night
Then slept 'neath oiled tarpaulins tight
An' smoked out skeeters' frightful bite
With leaves in lard cans burnin' light
And now and 'gin a drunken fight

Them times ain't never comin' back
I long since tossed my huntin' sack
Ol' friends long gone, my mem'ry's slack
They took me from that wooden shack
And moved me where there ain't no lack

I reckon there's one thing I need
Is jus' to go a ramblin' free
It sure ain't here 'mong old folks' weed
Not even fit for bugs to breed
No place t'work or do a deed

In Homestead I was born and bred
An' I'll return to that old shed
Where ma with grits the chickens fed
and pa in loud voice scripture read
then sent us to our floorboard beds

Yep, I'll be goin' home real soon
Mebbe when spring turns into June
An' dragonflies swarm in a swoon
An' night sounds sure 'nuff like a tune
I'll steal off like a masked old coon.