Landing in the last mining
Town in a puff of smoke
In a small little town about
Fives miles below Virginia City
And the Comstock Load
A very steep grade with
Twists and turns between
Dotted with old mining shacks
And mills on the distant hills
No where to go, a nice little
Family, a man, his mother and
Son and daughter lived in a
House beside the road
A two level house, with a
Small apartment they so
Graciously shared
A tall wood stove with a
Chimney stack sat on the
Wall on the west,
A couple of skinny looking
Beds with the dirtiest sheets
That a person had ever seen
On the east wall a sink with
Dirty dishes and an icebox
With no food
And a small table and chairs in the
Middle
A lantern we used at night stunk
Of kerosene
I was so hungry that day and
Went up stairs where my
Friend and I would play
It was summer time and
The old screen door with
Holes and tears couldn’t
Keep the flies out and there
Was a bowl of potato chips
With like a dozen flies
I didn’t care and reached for
Some chips when the father
Scolded me for what I did
I felt shame that day, and I know I lied
But I didn’t know why
He didn’t know there wasn’t
Even a morsel of food in
Our little shanty below
My mother, off to her jobs
And gambling halls didn’t
Come home very often
We pretty much fended for
Ourselves, my brother and I
I don’t know why but I was so
Ashamed of the dirt we lived in
The sheets were a faded brown
For hadn’t seen a wash in a very
Long time
One day my mother came home
With a mop and bucket, why
You would have thought she had
Given me a gold locket I was
So glad
I swept and scrubbed, and tried
To wash the sheets in an old iron
Tub
Funny, I never did feel like I got
Them clean…
Donna's Poetry Blog 