Sam Whited: Joanna
”`
Sipping my tea, I think back and remember Joanna:
Quietness isn’t the same for me now.

You came to America, wondering what you’d find:
Atlanta in a forest of broken dreams,
A people in turmoil, and no one seems to know why.
Communities falter before they’ve begun.

A lawnmower hums and I wake from my reverie.
I’d forgotten, about your America.

Driving to the North, far away from the city.
You looked for meaning in every farm passing by.
I bought you peanuts and gave you a tour of the mountains.

We d … ⌘ Read more”`