Louise will be giving a poetry reading at St. John's Episcopal Church at Cartoogechaye, just west of Franklin, NC on Wednesday July 19 at 6 p.m. The reading will pay homage to her great-uncle A. Rufus Morgan, an Episcopal priest who rebuilt the church in the 1940s and was an environmentalist and early maintainer of the Appalachian Trail; to her cousin Frances Cargill, a mainstay of Nantahala Weavers and an active dulcimer player in this area; and to other visionary family and friends, many of whom are buried in this church's cemetery. Scroll down for a sample poem; scroll further down to see Sally Kesler ferns ~ Sally will also be honored in this reading. Poetry books will be available for purchase for cash or check only.
my cousin Frances
sharp of mind till the very end
keen of eyesight, possessed of hearing
only slow of speech, and eating
not slow of thinking, or of caring
Frances, the mountain girl
who left her mountains for 50 years or so
for Washington, D.C., for New England, for South Carolina
who finally made it back to the 100-year-old cabin
to play the dulcimer and the bowed psaltry
and to weave
who, with Sally, for 20 years was a mainstay
at the Nonah Weavers’ cabin
who wove the complex traditional overshot patterns
with ease
who wove fabric for an elegant suit
for her daughter
who wove scarves and curtains and baby blankets
and a bishop’s stole in red and white
Frances wove everything –
hand towels and dish towels, wash cloths and bath mats
inserts for Christmas cards and bookmarks – my treasures
Frances wove her own shroud
which covered the box meant to contain her ashes
which she kept for years
till she was ready
Frances, who, with her daughter and Sally
went “galaxing” every late fall,
gathered the large round leathery leaves,
prized by florists, into green bouquets
and mailed them to my mother and me every Christmas
sending the scent of the mountains to our homes
the green bouquets which would last till spring
Frances, who gave me sanctuary
the many times I came to see my aunt
(first cousin to Frances)
at the nursing home nearby
Frances, who sang “Amazing Grace”
in the Cherokee language at my aunt’s memorial service
at the tiny mountain church in the woods
where I will one day be buried
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