In This House


In This House


Winter solace
by the fire,
her hands warmed by it enough-
this life in the Appalachians was a hard one.

They lived here alone, up high.
The river ran by the house
and constant was the flow of it
down through this valley.
In this house, her hands
moved with grace
to crochet the baby
bonnet that matched
her wee pink cheeks
and clothed her naked head.
A single blond curl
over the infant's brow peeked
through the bonnet her mother fashioned in this house.
An apron sat on a peg near the fire
in this house.
In this house, cooking perfumed the timber
and filled the wood with savory spice.
In this house a man and his wife
made a life
carved out of the mountain’s belly.

Years have passed by
one by one
but the chimney
laid stone by stone
still stands, 
a testimony
to the stark beauty
and purpose
of simple mountain living.

Comments

  1. What a gorgeous poem and what a absolutely stunning photo, lg.

    "in this house her cooking perfumed the timber" - such perfect imagery

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  2. That photo is stunning - the detail in the grasses and the lonely house that once held a hard-working mountain family. Lovely story and photo, lg.

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  3. Thank you Talon. What a beautiful house. We stumbled upon it in a field off the road wading out into the snow (by a river) to photograph a nearby rime-frosted mountain top. I absolutely adore the richly saturated color and the texture in the shot~~as always, Thank you for your thoughtful comments!
    lg
    Have a truly great day! :)

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  4. Yes Lynn~ I also loved the look of the grasses in the forefront. One has to wonder...who lived there? What was there life...like? Hope being back to work is enjoyable dear Lynn :):)

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  5. Great poem. You seem to reach through the walls with eyes that can see and tell a story that touches all of us. Thanks, PKP

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  6. What a house! Lovely structure and colours.

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  7. Hey Keith. Thank you and thanks for stopping by!
    Mari~ Yes, the color and texture it presents was a gift!

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