Her Dry Parched Land Would One Day
Be Delivered From Sadness And Shame”
…reaching the crest , the children
Are sick and they stop to rest.
Looking around, scrubby bushes
And stunted trees are all they see.
Day begins to close and darkness
Falls as they stop beside the road
Of this lonely land, unloading their
Meager supplies.
A kindling of fire sizzles as they
Heat a can of beans. Chores are easy
With some coffee to pour. The sun
Begins to sink as children go to sleep
With old army blankets from the car’s
Back floor.
Sounds of the desert are frightening
At night, with coyotes, rattlesnakes
And Great Horned owls. Stars are
Clearer here, a peaceful scene after
The smoggy skies of the city lights.
Night becomes restless and the
Children are scared, the man sits by
The fire drinking beer and gin then
Laughs and grins.
Morning brings more arguing, anger
And tears with mama, and the man
Puts on his hat and boots, walking
Down the road with his bottle of
Whiskey, waving goodbye with his
Shifty eyes. While all of this is
Going on, the children wonder
Where their father is. The sun’s
Warmth is welcomed, waking these
Migrants as they hasten on. The
Children have hungry stomachs
With no breakfast and all this havoc.
There is a vastness here, of dry creeks
And ravines. Clear blue skies host mean
Black birds circling high. Coming
Around a bend on this desolate road,
There is a little mining town, they have
Finally arrived. Barely a green thing
Grows here, except by the mill where
Water washes ore and dirt on the
Mining floor. There are people all
Around panning for gold, hoping to
Make it rich. Excited they run to and
Fro, one man wins and another owes
It hits their brain making them insane.
Not much of a town, main street has
A saloon and gambling hall mixed in
One. Mama will go there till the money
Is gone. She is always dealt a shady
Hand, then in her anger she hollers
And yells and tells them to go to hell.
The smell of hamburgers and French
Fries tantalize these travelers, but for
Now they will eat potatoes and beans.
On the windy road to this town there is
A castle, some of it falling apart, with
Ruins on the ground, but the walls
are standing. The girl and boy tries to
Play here and pretend they are kings
And queens. It is a safe place to be.
When they go to their mining shack
At night, they heat up a can of Dinty
Moore stew in an old iron pot.
A one room school has mean ornery
Kids, they don’t like these children and
Shame their dirty clothes and hair. But
After awhile the kids are nice, they
Play kick the can and eat honey
Grahams, and the children begin to
Like this place, then mama decides
She wants to move on, they head for the
Wide open spaces again. Back in the
Little coup, the girl isn’t sure where
She is going, with brother, Chow, and
Now a couple of kittens…
Another continuation of
‘Mining Town Girl’
Donna's Poetry Blog 