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Virgin Ground
Contributed by
lnnie
on
Sunday, 19th October 2008 @ 02:28:54 PM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
He was the neighbor boy
and I, the city girl
banished to the countryside
to learn hard work from the grandparents
who dairy-farmed.
l
The rumbling train after the long flight,
the smell in the air
jumbled my brain
everything outside that train window
seemed isolated, alien and I felt alone.
I sat next to an older woman
who without looking whispered
see the pretty cow?
Her grandchild came
from the bathroom late—
first case of mistaken identity.
Old barn but a beautiful house
and a bumpy pickup truck ride later
we were there.
Grandpa’s smell was
earthy, gasoline, fresh dirt
and he talked the entire while
spelling out my chores;
all the things
I would have to do,
but, he would help,
he would show me
how to milk the cows.
Grandma’s living room was a doily museum
everywhere a starched doily,
under lamps
some with coasters inside
one with a flower vase.
This was grandpas and grandmas.
My room was all gingham and florals,
muted pinks, greens and reds
the one Susie had;
all her things preserved there
and I began a slow fingering of them
as soon as grandma closed the door;
a 4-H photo of Susie and a dairy cow;
a cheerleader’s outfit in the closet;
a boy and her
with prom roses at the front door.
I hug my clothes slowly
because some of hers were still there,
and I dropped my tennis bracelet
on the closet floor
to discover there
a loose board.
I pried it loose to discover
a shoe box barely visible in the dark.
I froze
looked up
listening close to see
if anyone would be coming up;
took my nail file and finished
the excavation work;
holding at last in my hand something whose
contents I had
already pieced together in my mind
as to what was in Susie’s treasure box
forgotten there.
Easy open; letters wrapped with a red ribbon
jewelry, a photo and other things yet unidentified.
The room secure,
I read around the ribbon
to see some of the letters
had stamps and had been mailed
others had not--
written but not mailed.
One of these I opened slowly
and began to read.
“You were my Virgin Spring;
my Thomas flower blooming;
and I was Virgin Ground”.
Struck, should I read on
or close the letter
and put back
the top of the shoe box?
Copyright ©
lnnie
... [
2008-10-19 14:28:54]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Virgin Ground
(User Rating: 1 )
by karoody on
Sunday, 19th October 2008 @ 08:13:14 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
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a beautiful story. what a journey and day this must have been! thank you for sharing this with us. i adore your writing always. you always give a great story
love smiles blessings
kara |
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Re: Virgin Ground
(User Rating: 1 )
by recklessguy on
Monday, 20th October 2008 @ 02:35:39 AM AEST
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a Message)
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You are a writer. Super work. Reminded me of things.
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