Sixty nine from Sopchoppy
john clare stokes
One is for Bluefield,WV from where I was born,
Uncle Kermit driving mamma that January 30th in the snow storm.
Two is for coming from Vicco in
Kentucky to Sopchoppy in a Packard.
Three is for Mrs Mary and her bread pudding
Four is for Angeline and her red butcher knife
Robert,Sam and me running for our lives.
Five is for my Uncles in Mississippi staying summers happily
Six is for first loves, first grades and Helen Roussey from Panacea
Seven is for John Lloyd crying loudly
Miss Townsend saying I'd be moving
Eight is for Monticello and Lewis being born
Nine is for leaving the loved two story Victorian parsonage
Ten is for returning to Kentucky at Asbury in Wilmore
Eleven is for walking April Wells her answer I will forever be waiting for
Twelve is for the long 7th grade journey to Williston
Not believing Bill and Jack were not grown men
Thirteen is for JV Football and long haul fast end sweeping
Fourteen is for down by the Blue Grotto Melissa meeting
Fifteen is for playing point guard with the brothers
Sixteen and finding that Purple Haze a lot of love covers
Seventeen is for the Red Devil Class of seventy- three
Eighteen is for the perfect GPA at Santa Fe
Nineteen is for George Amica and working at Williston Memorial
Twenty is for Catherine Wilson singing Healing Love gloriously
Twenty one is for living with Dr ZT Johnson at Asbury
The F in Spanish and returning to Williston sadly
Twenty two is for the painting the hospital walls a second time
Daddy saying, we can pay for college by cutting the pines
Twenty three is for repeating a Junior year at Florida Southern
Twenty four for earning a BA degree finally.
Twenty five is for working as a service writer at Powers with Frankie
To turn down a job in Monticello teaching art convincing me
Twenty six is for wanting badly a photojournalist my career spending
Twenty seven is for Lucille and Lynn Counts hiring me to change mannequins at JCP
Twenty eight is for running 10k's with Forrest and Buddy
Twenty nine is for winning the city logo contest soundly.
Thirty is for canoeing the Suwannee with Bob Jones
Thirty one is for running the first marathon 26.2 miles long
Thirty two is for meeting a nurse at Shands named Melanie
Thirty three Jesus died but in Whitehurst chapel we were married
Thirty four and to our garage apartment on Camp came Landon
Mrs Beverly a job in JCP management offering
Thirty five is for that suit I now wore all the time
Thirty six is for Alan Crews his home on Camp selling
Thirty seven is for the Alachua General coming of Jordon
Thirty eight is for jumping on the trampoline under the pecan
Thirty nine is for the stucco house outgrowing
Forty is for postman Brian and to his Tevis house moving
Forty one is for winning nationally and to Dallas awarding sending
Forty two is for Rick Bringger and Hambone putting up with me
Forty three is for not taking the job in Albany
Forty four is for staying with family and friends in Lake City
Forty five is for letting Valerie take the job in Ocala
She wanting out of town so badly
Forty six and that sick feeling after telling Calise to chill
Forty seven is for that Friday in April
I can see it still
We are letting you go, with a gold retiree card
Twenty percent off a tad too hard
Forty eight is for Russell coming to Westside Chapel
Forty nine is for voting with Tom Bart not to build that Grace Babel
Fifty is for Ruth Garner hiring me at Sears
Fifty one and the Weasel is the top commissioned salesman to no cheers
Fifty two is for the coming end of biking centuries with Roger Sessler
Fifty three is for lamenting the loss of Bobs memory in his nineties
Fifty four is for one last River Run
Fifty five is for the sudden Sears closing
Fifty six is for the coming of my Grandson Nathaniel Manoa
Fifty seven is for Bill Giebeig hiring me to read meters slowly
Fifty eight is for continual prayer for Landon and family
Fifty nine is for volunteering down at the gallery
Sixty was for dreaming of being once again in ole Sopchoppy.
Sixty one for driving the Baya van delivering beds and oxygen, then driving to Homewood to Uncle William Clark’s funeral
Sixty two the saddest year for losing my mother
on the day before her 89th birthday.
Sixty three for son Jordon in Korea in the Army
Praying for his safety monitoring the DMZ.
Sixty four for being fired for taking photos then being hired by Ray the same day to take photos.
Sixty five for retiring in a Covid crazed world, while under Biden we downwards swirled.
Sixty six was for becoming a porter of cars, never dreamed I’d end up not going this far.
Sixty seven was for losing Uncle Jimmy in Mississippi, the last of the Stokes brothers missed greatly.
Sixty eight was for a vacation with Melanie and Jordon, Roscoe too in the cold Carolina mountains freezing.
Sixty nine and will this be at last the year, family so long missed will once again come near?
Seventy and a stroke set me back to learn again how to run. But I did return to the Gateway Gallery.
Seventy one, here I come.
