Music From a Place Called Half Moon by Jerrie Oughton

Author:Jerrie Oughton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

Fog

There’s something about fog

coming in to the heart of the city

bending to windows

blurring gardens

folding itself between houses

where people keep safe.

From what?

Something as gentle as fog?

E. J. Houp, 1956

I didn’t look up at him. Couldn’t. It was like admitting to something and not wanting to see the effect. I just sat, picking at the buckle on my sandal. Finally, I said, “I wrote that one morning when we left out of here early and were passing through Asheville on the way to Raleigh.”

“I’ve seen it do that,” he said. “Fog.”

I looked up. This was not the same Cherokee Fish who grabbed a boy up and like to choked the air out of him. He was just sitting. Calm and peaceful, his eyes so black it hurt to look at them.

“Do you write poems?” I asked. Somebody who had seen inside my poem might write poems himself.

“Nope,” he said, leaping down off the sawhorse to dig in his pocket. “Me? I make music.”

He flashed his harmonica out and rippled up and down with notes. Quick. Then he grinned like he’d treed a possum. He didn’t know I knew that about him. Didn’t know I’d already heard his music. And, since he respected privacy, I did, too. I didn’t let on it wasn’t the first time.

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