Doctor Grandma

Too tired for words

Close to end of semester,

Student lives

swim before my face,

The desperateness of some

haunt my nightly dreams,

as they hang on the brink

of their futures,

Someone once said,

he had a dream,

I want to tell them, Dream big! Think bigger!

There is more to the world

than this red clay state,

Venture out into it,

See something new,

Put yourself in the crossfire,

Do something outrageous,

Be all that you ever dream to be,

and do more than I did,

do more than me.

(This is a rough draft.)

cfblack   4-02-2015

A friend challenged others to write once a day for 30 days. I will write something, a paragraph, a poem, a thought, once a day for April 1-30.

This is a poem where I simultaneously become different ancestors, at different times, all at the same time……..

Who I am

I am Dutch, from the old country,

I am grandma’s laughing voice

Joking with Grandpa in their language,

Our love is strong,

We laugh often,

serve Dutch windmill cookies in our American kitchen.

I am picking tulips,

Farming in Friesland,

Dreaming of a new life, in America.

I am my great grandmother,

pregnant at 17,

In a new country, far from home,

get married in Chicago,

Migrate south to Indiana,

bear 11 children,

And life is hard.

The oldest, George,

Helps me whenever he can,

His wife gives birth to Martha, my mother.

I am an 8-yr-old boy

in Cincinnati,

I take my father’s first name, James.

He, or someone, I know not who,

Immigrates from Scotland,

Where we roamed the hills,

picked heather, and dreamt

Of life in America,

I immigrate to Pennsylvania,

Where others of my name have settled.

We migrate west

To escape the British once again,

And set up life in Ohio.

I join the Union army

At age 18,

travel down the Ohio river

To settle in New Albany,

just across the river from Louisville.

I am a young girl, who wonders about her ancestors,

struggles to solve their mysteries,

and tell their stories.

cfblack  04-01-2015