Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Mother
Mother
This picture haunts me.
It's as if
I sealed my fate
in a moment of silliness
prompted by the photographer.
The blind date
with the man who would be your father
was that same night.
I was blind indeed. And he didn't wait
a single minute for my good sense to return.
Almost before I realized it,
I was hitched and whisked away
to that wretched farm.
His conquest
was my doomsday.
I won't try to stop you, Iva.
Neither will I come rescue you.
It is your life to waste.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
Monday, April 25, 2016
Iva
Iva
I never knew Great Uncle.
When I turn twenty and can manage
the money he left for me
I will thank him for his hard work,
his thrift, and his service in far away Russia in the Great War.
Then I'll not hesitate to leave.
A life on the farm
was Mother's "terrible mistake."
It is my dream.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Iva
Iva
Dear Henry,
Yes, that's me --
on the outside.
Inside, I'm still the girl
who could out-race and out-spell you
with one arm tied
behind my back!
Keep sending your poems about the homeplace.
They're what's keeping the true me alive.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Henry
Henry
All right, Pa.
You want me to invent a better story?
Youngest son
grows up to become
the world's first famous
ukulele musician.
Deprived of violin and trumpet
by his older brothers,
he discovers a musical passion
all his own. Deeply regrets
missing out on a life of farm work.
How's that for invention?
The truth will be:
Youngest son inherits farm,
makes agriculture his ambition.
Finds fame
in cattle and crops.
His regrets? None.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
Friday, April 22, 2016
Papa and Henry
Papa and Henry
There's my gallant Henry,
high on his steed,
ready to gallop into the sunset!
Tell the truth, Pa.
We both know
from the set
of Dolly's ears
what was about to happen.
I was lucky to get
out of that alive.
When Dolly went to live at the Dobler's
I was not upset.
Henry, my boy, what's stopping us
from inventing a better story
complete with some imaginary regrets?
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Jama has the Poetry Friday Roundup this week at Jama's Alphabet Soup.
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
Thursday, April 21, 2016
Henry
Henry
There I am,
Jack's shadow.
I'm surprised he let me hold his precious bat.
Do you think he's okay?
Why haven't we heard from him?
Where's he at,
anyway? Why won't they tell you?
When will this war be over?
I want my hero back.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
Lizzy
Lizzy
A note to my younger self:
Don't take the world so seriously.
You don't always have to do as you're told.
Snatch off that silly bonnet
and run towards freedom.
Make your move, and make it bold.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Papa
Papa
I remember that day.
I did all my morning chores
up to my knees in mud,
came back to the house
to clean my boots up,
and there he was,
proud as punch
in my overshoes.
How could I begrudge his fun?
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
Monday, April 18, 2016
Mama
Mama
We went back to Nebraska
just that once.
My brother's wealth was hard
on your Pa.
All of it --
tidy barn, grass in the yard,
and Jack in hand-me-downs
holding tight
to that car,
not wanting to leave it
for our dry and dusty
struggle of a farm.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
Sunday, April 17, 2016
Papa
Papa
Jack was always a joker,
using the animals
for some prank or scheme,
but Lewis loved them
deep and hard.
They were a team:
Lewis,
his Bonnie dog,
and Queenie --
the old mare
who was so patient,
so gentle with Lizzy and Henry.
Lewis has been gone nearly a year,
but whenever a car comes into the yard
they both look up hopefully.
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016
Labels:
bygones,
original,
Poetry Month 2016,
story in verse
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