PRODUCT OF WAR
I am a product of war:
a product made large
largely from passion
grown strong in England
Long before egg and sperm united,
Elsie, who became my mother,
used her tiny arms
to move a capstan lathe
as part of the war effort.
in days of brown outs, long walks
when Earl, an American soldier
stationed in Europe—
came courting….They married in England,
and in America, worked long hours
to make home,(he back home,
she on this continent for the first time).
I was the growing child,
running in quiet evening, chasing fireflies,
tasting raspberries, while they
let love make me the person I am.
(first published in Iodine Poetry Journal)
Lovely, haunting, Helen.
Ths is a good poem Helen. Thanks for sharing it.
Thank you, Ron.
I’m with, Ron. I’m really glad you wrote and shared this one 🙂
Thank you, Jessie.
This is a great poem. Well written!
Thank you, Brenda.