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Memories of a Child

Ellen Bryant Voight is a famous Black Mountain poet, and paints quite spectacular landscapes with words. I was very blessed to be one of the youngest poets she accepted at her MFA Program in Black Mountain, NC. I wanted to share an excerpt of one of her works, that replays some of my own childhood memories.

Visting the Graves

All day we travel from bed to bed, our children
clutching homemade bouquets
of tulips and jonquils, hyacinth,
handfuls of yellow salad from the fields.
In Pittsylvania County our dead face east,
my great-grandfather and his sons facing
what is now a stranger’s farm.
One great uncle chose a separate hill,
an absence in the only photograph.
Under the big oak, we fumble for his name
and the names of sisters scattered like coins.
But here is my father, near the stone
we watched him weep beside for twenty years.
And my mother beside him, the greenest slab of grass…

(see more here, to order, http://www.amazon.com/dp/0393062503?tag=poetsorg-20&camp=14573&creative=327641&linkCode=as1&creativeASIN=0393062503&adid=0H5J92VY13WXEWQVVR59&&ref-refURL=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.poets.org%2Fpoet.php%2FprmPID%2F880#reader_B001MZ0FI4)