At the storefront<\/p>\n
The old man sat with feet propped up At the storefront The old man sat with feet propped up gumboots scuffed through the black rubber In his twisted fingers he held a needle plying it through a patch spread over a torn net. Overhead, a cloud pregnant with rain thickened against the backdrop…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":68,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11,441],"tags":[4101],"class_list":["post-96205","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem","category-poetry-prompt-responses","tag-2021poetrymarathon"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96205","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/68"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=96205"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96205\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":96228,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/96205\/revisions\/96228"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=96205"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=96205"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=96205"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\ngumboots scuffed through the black rubber
\nIn his twisted fingers he held a needle
\nplying it through a patch spread over a torn net.
\nOverhead, a cloud pregnant with rain thickened
\nagainst the backdrop of a periwinkle sky.
\nThis<\/em>, he told me, is how we always done it.<\/em>
\nThe way my daddy done it. My mama<\/em>
\nshe brought him sourdough bread n butter<\/em>
\nbread she made from her own starter<\/em>
\nbutter she beat from our own milk.<\/em>
\nI miss them days. Nothing like \u2018em.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"