The Departure
I imagine them not smiling but brave,
those pioneer women, sitting up straight beside the men
who’d made them believe in the adventure,
leaving the towns where they’d grown up,
where their parents still lived, their sisters, brothers,
and where every street corner held a memory,
leaving behind the piano, the pet dog.
And in this picture, the oxen are straining and bellowing
as the yokes cut into their shoulders, the men shouting,
cracking long whips over their backs--
and then the wagons begin to move out!
The wedding china and the linen tablecloths
are packed in wooden crates in the back of the wagon.
Some things cannot be left behind.
Now I see one woman turn back for a last look,
hoping she won’t be turned to salt like Lot’s poor wife,
but unable to resist that taking in of the faces,
the house she’ll return to later in dreams.
I see myself on the hard wooden bench, holding the reins
as the wagon lurches into motion, heading west.
I can’t tell yet if this is the best day of my life or the worst.
Four Souls Lost on Freedom Boulevard
Not the sketchy account
in the local paper—too many
kids in the car, no seatbelts,
head-on collision in the night--
not even the shrine
that sprang up on that spot, flowers,
photos, and people stopping by
to bow their heads, mostly all young,
standing still beside that busy road--
but when I saw the four oranges
lined up on the top of the mailbox,
I felt the empty space
left by those who will never again
hold an orange in their hands,
peel it, taste that sweetness,
the sweetness of living on the earth,
and like the ancient Egyptians,
who provisioned their dead
with cooking pots and food,
their friends had thought to offer
some sustenance for the journey ahead.
Barbara Bloom grew up in California and British Columbia. After forty plus years in Santa Cruz, she is heading back to the Northwest to live in Bellingham, Washington. She has loved being part of the vibrant and welcoming community of writers in the Santa Cruz area, and looks forward to continued close association with them in the future. Her first full-length collection of poems, On the Water Meridian, was published by Hummingbird Press in 2007, and a second collection, Pulling Down the Heavens, will be out in Fall 2017.
I imagine them not smiling but brave,
those pioneer women, sitting up straight beside the men
who’d made them believe in the adventure,
leaving the towns where they’d grown up,
where their parents still lived, their sisters, brothers,
and where every street corner held a memory,
leaving behind the piano, the pet dog.
And in this picture, the oxen are straining and bellowing
as the yokes cut into their shoulders, the men shouting,
cracking long whips over their backs--
and then the wagons begin to move out!
The wedding china and the linen tablecloths
are packed in wooden crates in the back of the wagon.
Some things cannot be left behind.
Now I see one woman turn back for a last look,
hoping she won’t be turned to salt like Lot’s poor wife,
but unable to resist that taking in of the faces,
the house she’ll return to later in dreams.
I see myself on the hard wooden bench, holding the reins
as the wagon lurches into motion, heading west.
I can’t tell yet if this is the best day of my life or the worst.
Four Souls Lost on Freedom Boulevard
Not the sketchy account
in the local paper—too many
kids in the car, no seatbelts,
head-on collision in the night--
not even the shrine
that sprang up on that spot, flowers,
photos, and people stopping by
to bow their heads, mostly all young,
standing still beside that busy road--
but when I saw the four oranges
lined up on the top of the mailbox,
I felt the empty space
left by those who will never again
hold an orange in their hands,
peel it, taste that sweetness,
the sweetness of living on the earth,
and like the ancient Egyptians,
who provisioned their dead
with cooking pots and food,
their friends had thought to offer
some sustenance for the journey ahead.
Barbara Bloom grew up in California and British Columbia. After forty plus years in Santa Cruz, she is heading back to the Northwest to live in Bellingham, Washington. She has loved being part of the vibrant and welcoming community of writers in the Santa Cruz area, and looks forward to continued close association with them in the future. Her first full-length collection of poems, On the Water Meridian, was published by Hummingbird Press in 2007, and a second collection, Pulling Down the Heavens, will be out in Fall 2017.
