scribbler
Dec 17, 2010

ERASED

I pulled off the road today
where I used to watch the pine trees sway
the dozers now have stripped it bare
as if they were never really there

I hunted here in years gone by
beneath every type of sky
while finding hints of people past
their broken dreams that didn't last

The pines were planted years ago
at least thirty years or so
in hopes of growing future gain
sans labor and muscle pain

Rusted plows and sagging fence
told the tale of Mr. Spence
who farmed this land for all his life
raised two sons, buried his wife

Old cornerstones and crumbling flue
from when a pioneer came through
whose wanderlust lead him to leave
for Mississippi I believe

Down near the creek, an Indian mound
where braves and bows were put in ground
I used to sit there near at hand
and dream about this lonely land

A Clovis point from ancient time
when this region had a purer clime
what happened to them no one knows
Did they use long spears or bows ?

But all the traces, all the tales
are gone as are the hills and swales
reduced to a dull red leveled spot
whose story soon will be forgot

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: South Carolina, United States, USA

Favorite Poets: Frost

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Comments

mand

mand

14 years 4 months ago

I have a family picture of my great grandparents with their children - one of which is my grandmother. Of course I I never meet them. My grandmother died in 1934 and her brothers died before I was born.

I look at their picture and wonder what their lives were like - all gone! They lived on the Island of Alderney - many of my ancestors are buried there and on the Island of Guernsey and Sark. So sad that things have to change - and we wonder and muse. But it's even sadder when it is erased in front of your eyes.

I felt a sad melancholy when I read this one.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts. Excellent poem Stan! I was truly touched!!

One day I might be able to visit Alderney and Guernsey to see my ancestors graves!!

S

To see land clear cut or built over with houses is bad enough, but at least the land contours remain. This poem was for all the places where 100 acres and more are completely leveled leaving not even a hint of how it waas. Appreciate your visit and comment.......................................stan

S

Think what you remember is a similar one titled " Progress ".Always good to see you here..............stan

R

raj

13 years 10 months ago

Between the lines of this flowing write
is a myth that may not rhyme
with those who lust with greed for dough
no mercy for those who'll follow

Barren lands with no hope of rain
is the price our kids will've to pay
if paper boats are to find a stream
trees must rise to keep their dreams

S

writer's block? It appears you are recovering lol.........stan

S

I'm glad you dropped by for a read on this oldie. The clovis people suddenly disappeared. Archeological evidence suggests they vanished at same time a continent wide conflagration occurred.............stan