Stories shift to memories…not experienced, but shared
down through the generations past.
From the time of children stillborn…the harshness of the winters,
widespread epidemics…entire families erased,
no children nor grandchildren to barefoot, walk the plains, to see
the flight of owl or hawk, the gentle nudge ‘tween doe and fawn, the joy of spring.
Three siblings lost before great, great grandma was granted strength
to grow beyond a child’s grave, so that in time to come, those years ago
Grandpa John could face the dust that blackened day. Stand his ground
as the ground blew away, and make his choice to stay…
— Lee Mick