Jamie loved Alabama
He’d never forget those pines
or the summer there
when his granddaddy bought him
his first buck knife
or took him for his first diesel rig ride
He hasn’t been back since the old man died
He swore when he passed that he wouldn’t cry
but his tears let loose like a stormy sky
By:J.N.R Dutton
The Poetry Of J.N.R Dutton 