Buttercup – Poetic Prose

05 Jul


Many years ago, when my memory first came to be I guess I was about three.

I was alone all day while daddy worked in the cotton fields leaving long before

the sun came up; it was just me and a big old yellow dog who watched out for

me that everyone called “Buttercup”.

Daddy said that she wandered up one day about half starved and she never left

our yard. I had a sister, who was about nine, but she was never around she and

my mother were gone all the time.

I overheard mother saying one day that my sister was the only child that she ever

wanted or even had; I did not care I had daddy so my life was not that bad.

I would eat cold biscuits every morning left on the old wood stove then sit on our back

porch wondering where I could go. I did not need anyone to take care of me –   I had

that old yellow dog you see.

She and I played in the fields under the hot southern sun, I would hang on to her and

away we would run. Sometimes we would walk in the woods around the mountaintop

where we lived. I had better care from that old yellow dog than most humans could give.

Life was not easy for me with no one to care; still “Buttercup” was always there. Soon it

came time for me to go to school Buttercup and daddy would watch as the bus drove away,

and they would both be waiting for me at the end of the day.

The years went by quickly when one day only daddy stood by the road with his head bowed

down there were tears in his eyes as he stared at the ground. Later as my own tears fell upon

that soft mound of red dirt I looked toward Heaven and told Buttercup to keep watching for me,

“You’ll look up one day old girl and there I will be”.



Posted by on July 5, 2015 in Poetry


Tags: , , , ,

4 responses to “Buttercup – Poetic Prose

  1. lbeth1950

    July 5, 2015 at 6:47 pm

    I do love this.


  2. calensariel

    July 5, 2015 at 7:14 pm

    Pet stories really get to me, too.


%d bloggers like this: