My mother was the daughter
Of a hard-scrabble farmer
in Dust Bowl Kansas.
The second of twelve
she had only one dress
and was always late to school.
She had to milk the cows first.
By high school, mother was a beauty
with hair that hung down her back
in waves
as red as the sun shining through the
wind-borne dirt.
She never believed she was pretty, though,
and she hated her incredible hair.
She was my father's second wife,
his first having run off while he was away
at war.
Mother always felt like
second choice.
My father's eyes were green as bottle flies
and his hair thick and dark.
He had one wayward curl
that strayed onto his forehead
and laid there
tempting feminine fingers
to push it back.
His smile was slow
and revealed a solitary dimple
lurking in one cheek.
When he played semi-pro ball,
his nickname was Pretty Boy.
My father wrote letters to my mother,
glorious, love letters
tied in a packet with a blue ribbon.
We made fun of him over those letters,
but secretly, I marveled that he
could be so tender.
He worked on dams and bridges
and wore steel-toed boots, hard hats
and work shirts with the sleeves rolled up,
showing his Navy tattoos.
He could drive a nail with one blow,
but he was gentle with my mother.
Dad's mother
was a gray, rigid woman
with a dowager's hump,
like a piece of bent steel.
The wild Kansas dust had seeped into her skin
and the only shine she had
came from her eyes and teeth.
Mother's father
was stern and stubborn,
enforcing his daughter's obedience
with a rubber hose.
For years, he didn't speak to my Grandmother
and slept upstairs
while she was downstairs.
We never knew why.
He didn't talk much,
but he flew airplanes
and gave us rides.
He raised buffalo
and sucked the gristle
off the ends of chicken bones
and belched at the table.
He made an airstrip out of a wheat field
and we'd watch him fly off
as if he were chasing an imagined
dust storm.
They're all gone now,
but their memories cover my life
like a layer of
fine Kansas dust.
A contest entry
- Antique Photograph by micol.
800 points, ended August 23, 2008, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Women Only (prewites welcome) by Danna Hobart.
490 points, ended January 29, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Tell me about your family. by Zannah.
700 points, ended February 7, 23 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Gorgeous imagery in this wonderful piece.. My Dad's folks came from Kansas country too and I love going through old photos from back then.. The land so barren, flat, dry and hot.. I'm awfully glad they moved to the ocean long before I came along.. lol Thank you for a delightful read..
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Wipe of the dust, for This SHINES!
I noticed that someone commented negatively on the poem being centered. Personally, I find them easier to read when centered and do the same with mine.
The visuals here are astoundingly good, pulling the reader into each scene: so much so that I must go wash off that fine Kansas dust! Beautifully written and surely a picture of you: a combination of ancestery, so I imagine you as one fine gal. 
This is surely a winner!
Luv & hugs, BonnieQ
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I loved this entry, Cynthia!
congratulations on a well deserved silver.
Love
Myra
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While the centering doesn't seem to add to the poem's impact, the images formed create a valuable sense of time past and its impact on present. The whole effect is of a family caught in a moment, preserved in words just as the prompt preserved my family as an image. I much appreciate the effort that went into the poem; one the whole a delightful and insightful opportunity to visit the past.
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Wow, theres so much history here. Is a dowagers hump that bump that really old ladies get due to osteoporosis? My great grandmother had that and she always reminded me of a great big wrinkled turtle. But she made the greatest fried chicken you have ever tasted. Her stories were fantastic tales from before there were cars! This reads like it's right out of a famous american poetry book. The fourth stanza is my favorite, I like the contrast between the hard working breadwinner and the tender loveletter writer.
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Hi CQ
Was this from your "Ante Rhyming" days? I know you are an excellent "rye myrrh"!
Not many on this site that I know of can narrate in this way, but that ain't saying much cause I don't know many,
except maybe one gal, named September Butterfly, give a look if you get the chance, you might be kindred spirits.
Are you figuring out the gold membership? Might take a bit.
"Her hair so blond, as blond as Kansas wheat." From one of my poems.
Never been to Kansas myself...except in my imagination, riding with the James Boys down from Missouri.
Well, if I had to see one more poem before bed, I'm really glad it was a good one like this.
Regards,
John
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This is such a lovely way to keep a family tree. The memories are embedded in the poem. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this and felt as if I was part of the story. Very well written. God bless.
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Interesting biography.
You know it seems like the world is far apart in cyberspace but we are often united by the same cyberspace. Reading this makes me recall my family and grandparents. You did a splendid job. Oh yes those memories.
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This is just incredible. I have never read anything so full of imagery and beauty as this. I could see all of this happening in front of me and your use of metaphor and similie is amazing. I love it completely. My favourite stanza is your last
They're all gone now,
But their memories cover my life
like a layer of
fine Kansas dust.
Brings up amazing images that does.
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wow its rather long aint it? mustve took u a while x very well written tho *applause* x
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Thats just beautiful. I think Touchof1der is right when he/she says that it's as if you have invited the reader to take part in your family history. It's extremly well written and it feels as if maybe i would show a bit of recognition if you pointed them out to me.
A wonderful write and i hate to say but but what made me read it was your name, its beautiful and it goes with such a wonderful poem.
thanks for the great read
Claire-Anne
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This is a very touching piece. It feels as if you have invited the reader in to share in a part of your family history. It has that, "Sit down, have a cup of tea and let's chat a while" feel about it. I like the comfort of this but also feel a sense of sadness for those who lived and endured for a time with all the hurts that life brings.
♥ Touchof1der
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