I went to the dances at Chandlerville,
And played snap-out at Winchester.
One time we changed partners,
Driving home in the moonlight of middle June,
And then I found Davis.
We were married and lived together for seventy years,
Enjoying, working, raising the twelve children,
Eight of whom we lost
Ere I had reached the age of sixty.
I spun, I wove, I kept the house, I nursed the sick,
I made the garden, and for holiday
Rambled over the fields where sang the larks,
And by Spoon River gathering many a shell,
And many a flower and medicinal weed—
Shouting to the wooded hills, singing to the green valleys.
At ninety-six I had lived enough, that is all,
And passed to a sweet repose.
What is this I hear of sorrow and weariness,
Anger, discontent and drooping hopes?
Degenerate sons and daughters,
Life is too strong for you—
It takes life to love Life.
Edgar Lee Masters
Love the last line..so true. xx
ReplyDeleteWhat a great poem! The last line is so true. I often wonder what my foremothers and fathers would think of my cushy life and my "problems". They had courage and a perspective that I try to live up to. Also, I love how she tells her life, and then her death, and then you realise she's speaking from beyond and it's not a "sweet repose" that cuts her off from us. Thanks, Suzy!
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