It was the last day of summer vacation.
We went to the park that day.
A wicker basket full of egg salad sandwiches,
bread and butter pickles in a ball dome lid pint jar
a plastic fork taped to the side by Janeen's mom
my mom contributed the spice cake
koolaid in a Tupperware pitcher with matching cups
the annual last summer day picnic before back to school
paper plates meant for lunch were soon sailing like flying saucers
tag and crack the whip, hide and seek and bicycle races around the foot path
and the games of king of the hill began in earnest on the statue in the park square
That old statue, the Pioneer mother, with her three bronze, children
all turning green with weather, frozen in a pose of despair
her hand on the musket next to her side, her arms about her frightened youth
someone who could give them comfort before what ever terror they faced
an eternal look of brave determination etched on her face
The granite wall behind her was a natural climbing rock for young mountaineers
the prize was the polished head, worn smooth by many children over the years
the first to the top would straddle piggy back and fend the others off
Through it all the pioneer mother stood there,
uncomplaining, ready to take on another youth
her compassionate stare into the distance always the same.
The leaves were turning already on the oak trees that day
a restless wind talked through the leaves, flitting like butterflies
children were on the slides and swings or racing through the water sprinklers
a cavalcade of activities, forgetting the next day we'd be back in school
A scrubby, brown and white stray dog lapped water straight from the water fountain spout
Daring youth trapped crawdads in the fish pond,
Strickly forbidden this could get you a ride to the county courthouse
in a cop car and an angry call to your parents.
Some of us raided the trash cans for bottles to be turned in at the corner store
Big Hunk candy bars and bubblegum, the kind with the comic wrapped around it,
the prize for pop and beer bottles discarded by adults who didn't know treasure
when they saw it.
Someone found an umbrella that still worked though it was broken, sort of
a single swim fin and a teddy bear with only one leg missing,
all to be taken home.
Treasures like that couldn't be passed up either.
By early evening the picnic was winding down and the games were getting boring
no one wanted to climb the statue anymore, but she looked on anyway
One who had seen so many summers pass, so many children growing up.
Someone who had lived through many cold winters and flowering springs
Her memories must have exceeded any we'd ever know
That night we went home. She remained there. All that year and long our youth passed
she stayed there, on guard in the park, for other generations of youth to enjoy
The other day I was back at the park, where children still played on swings and slides
where mothers strolled by the bandstand, with preambles and carriages
Farmers Market was alive with sounds and colors of summer
all brushed the canvas of the mind
And, there was the Pioneer Mother still looking out on the scene
her eyes taking it all in, her expression unchanged.
Still young, still vigilant, expression always the same.
Little kids climbing the stone wall still squealed with laughter and I could swear
for a second I thought I saw her smile.
Author notes
Empty Eyeballs
A contest entry
- W.B. YEATS PROMPT PREWRITES MUST FOLLOW PROMPT by liquidmindforever.
600 points, ended July 11, 7 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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congradulations on the bronze
A MAGICAL WRITE, LOVED IT
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Congratulations ...
and I'm so glad that I came to read this piece and your wonder-full take for this "empty eyeballs" contest! I surely must echo penman: "A wonderful collection of recollections, so vividly expressed. " as that says it all! joy
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Through it all the pioneer mother stood there,
uncomplaining, ready to take on another youth
her compassionate stare into the distance always the same.
early evening the picnic was winding down and the games were getting boring
no one wanted to climb the statue anymore, but she looked on anyway
there was the Pioneer Mother still looking out on the scene
her eyes taking it all in, her expression unchanged.
Still young, still vigilant, expression always the same.
Little kids climbing the stone wall still squealed with laughter and I could swear
for a second I thought I saw her smile.
Dear Poet,
Thank you for entering my contest: WB Yeats Prompt: "Empty Eyeballs knew that knowledge increases unreality, that mirror on mirror mirrorerd is all the show."
What I observed about your piece after the initial overview, is that everything that you described with vivid imagery, was all the show, and although the
eyes may have seemed empty, they spoke beyond what only silence can
say through the heart.
Nicely done.
Wishing you the best
till then,
stay
liquid
finalist
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Wow this is full of wonderful images. My mind is agog. I loved how you focussed it all on the statue and what she might be thinking. That's excellent.It tighly ties a string os excellent images into a wonderful piece of prose.
I loved that part about finding all the treasures
So, so true.
Best wishes with this
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Excellent
A wonderful collection of recollections, so vividly expressed. And the ending gives is such deep emotions. Best of luck in the contest.
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