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Papa

Papa Papa was a huntin' man Tromped thru the woods With a gun in his hand Fierce hunter. Fiercer man Papa was a soldier man Marched thru the battle With a gun in his hand Fierce soldier. Fiercer man Papa was a hurtin' man In the dead of the night With a spear in his hand-- He pierced my soul --Janice Bell Father I remember how I first saw my father. He was a big man, with big hands. He staggered a little. Dressed in a dark suit, crisp white shirt, and wide tie. Always wore a wide-brimmed fedora, Cocked to one side. Cowering, small, I hid in the shadows. To me, he was a giant, Loud-voiced, slurred speech, Curved over my little Mom. Hiding together, I comfort my baby sister. Shhh, don't cry, he'll see us. Shhh, soon he'll be gone, Gone down the road again. --Twyla Swiger Vincent http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College
ISSN
1940-5081
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

Papa was a huntin' man Tromped thru the woods With a gun in his hand Fierce hunter. Fiercer man Papa was a soldier man Marched thru the battle With a gun in his hand Fierce soldier. Fiercer man Papa was a hurtin' man In the dead of the night With a spear in his hand-- He pierced my soul --Janice Bell Father I remember how I first saw my father. He was a big man, with big hands. He staggered a little. Dressed in a dark suit, crisp white shirt, and wide tie. Always wore a wide-brimmed fedora, Cocked to one side. Cowering, small, I hid in the shadows. To me, he was a giant, Loud-voiced, slurred speech, Curved over my little Mom. Hiding together, I comfort my baby sister. Shhh, don't cry, he'll see us. Shhh, soon he'll be gone, Gone down the road again. --Twyla Swiger Vincent

Journal

Appalachian ReviewUniversity of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 1997

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