Poetry Friday is hosted today by Carol Varsalona at Beyond LiteracyLink. Check out her page for links to more poets sharing work today.
In 1958, when I was five years old, my parents and other relatives set out on a great adventure north. I have been writing bits and pieces about that time for a while. Over the last couple of years as I write more, I interview remaining family members for more details and stories about their experience. To motivate myself to write, I plan to post bits and pieces of their saga here every Friday. They might not be in any kind of order. I'm just hoping to get some kind of reasonable drafts out there. I hope for feedback both on the construction of the poetry, and more details from family.
This is the fourth instalment. You can read the previous posts at the links below.
Leaving
Characters
journey
Arrival
Early afternoon
they arrived at the settlement.
Found, nestled in a grove of pines
along the river,
an assortment of ragged
cabins.
Not dignified enough
to be built of logs,
rough shiplap
nailed together
rose up to meet
a low peaked roof.
No insulation,
no interior walls,
just two room shacks
with wind whistling tunes
through cracked wood and
empty knot holes.
Filthy abodes,
infested with
mice,
pack rats
and other forest creatures.
Birds nested
in chimneys
and ceiling corners.
A family of skunks had
taken up in one of the cabins
and were left alone.
Dismayed but undaunted,
optimistic crews
of men, women and older children
set to work shovelling out
what would be their winter homes.
My mother,
seven and a half months pregnant,
scrubbed alongside them.
A passel of children,
the oldest set to
looking out for the youngest,
explored this new landscape.
Inside these hovels,
one small window,
covered with plastic,
welcomed sunlight into
the kitchen eating area.
An even smaller one,
high on the wall,
invited a sliver of light
into the sleeping space.
Out back,
a ramshackle outhouse
waited for you to do your business.
Water was hauled in buckets from the river.
The wood cook stove in the front room
provided the only heat.
Come dark,
kerosene lamps
radiated golden
as the travellers bedded down,
camping out
that first night
in their new dwellings.
Links to my previous April poems can be found here.
Here is a link to blogs of other participants in the poem a day challenge.
