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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3687 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention A Cliff and a Letter Lia (E. V. Brooks) A cliff old weathered rock white gulls where I sit, resting legs on a blue and red blanket and you, watching clouds bathe in saffron, give an account in faded ink-- a century removed from your jacket now rests on an old letter in my hands. A door opens and you lead me through into a cold brown sitting room. Spring 1894 By the lake trees twist their feather plumes and scatter along the track to Claygate. Emma follows their path lifting up dawn’s dew in each handful of berries carries them home for mother to place the sweet taste in cakes and pastries. Today Emma takes her time-- restless under pink stars of fallingblossoms. She breathes in deep to her knees, as John Walters leans back on the seat, and knows childhood backed away and a woman remains. A small petal planted in her stomach asks his hand-- fear riddles his soft earth eyes. A corset can’t keep the swell down. Emma hides it with fingers as mother notices the weight. In the cold brown sitting-room family turn away her love gone to Australia and Father denies her name. So Emma weeps in an attic above the drinking house until a warm May day in 1895 carries John‘s voice. A white ship tugs the ocean. Four weeks have passed since Southampton docks. Emma watches clouds bathe in saffron and span lazily in the distance. She opens a new white letter and bleeds on the deck as wind lifts the waves to sting her face. My dear Emma, My news is unfortunate, but I must tell you of a woman I have met here in this wondrous land. I will marry her come Autumn. I know you will understand. It is better this way- dishonour will be lifted from my name, but I will always have fond memories of you my dear, dear Emma. Sincerely John F Walters. Autumn docks a ship on Australia’s western coast. The passengers step into a new world. A woman and child are not with them. In a small cabin deep in the stern someone finds a letter with a suitcase inside an empty crib. I stare across the sea from weathered rock as the letter sleeps in my hands a gull swoops into the waves and you are quiet. For Emma |
