Inspired by challenges at Poet's Place Cafe, a forum designed to hone your writing skills. |
Cora Lynn Williams 1834-1850 Ma'am, 'scuse me Ma'am, you, standin' at that stone. Sorry to bother, but I been tryin' to find my fam'ly, and I need help. Mama told me I'd be honored to marry up with Mr. Williams, he's a fine upstandin' man, an Elder, and Papa says, 'cause of him we only lost one wagon crossin' the Platte... When we got to the Salt Lake he begun right away buildin' a cabin for me and my new sister-wife, Marilda. She's mama to his little girl and two rowdy boys. I dreamt of havin' a sweet baby of my own, it's a wife's duty, you know, to bear children, but I never thought it'd hurt so much. I heard Mrs. Griffin, she helps with the birthin', she said somthin' 'bout my baby bein' turned and me so small. I 'member red sticky blood, the sweat, the awful, stabbin' pain and bein' tired, so tired I just had to stop and sleep . . . then the cold, so cold it froze my bones. Was that my Mama I heard cryin'? I gotta find my Mama, my baby.... Maybe you could find Mr. Williams for me, he'll know what to do. Judi Van Gorder Notes: ▼ |