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In the House of My Great-Grandmother

Published onDec 09, 2024
In the House of My Great-Grandmother
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In the House of My Great-Grandmother 

 Broken stones and brick from the great twin chimneys,
All that remain of the house. The land still slopes gently
All the way to the river. I remember how large it looked
To me as a child, that old farmhouse almost as tall
As the giant sycamore tree, stark and bare
Like the mountain women 
Who cooked and sewed and bore children in it. 

I remember three porches, three sides of life:
The back porch for kitchen work, the side
For tying up horses, feeding hired hands,
The front porch where family sat in the evenings
On feather feed sack pillows in rocking chairs
While neighbors visited and great uncle Braxton
Played the banjo. 

In my dream I am cleaning this house,
Letting in air and sunshine, 
Cooking cornbread in the old wood stove. 
I am making a place for myself. 
I am thinking that here 
In the presence of the grandmothers 
Is where I want to live.

Vol. 31, no. 1, 2002

Sally Atkins, Ed.D., REAT, REACE, is a teacher, poet, psychotherapist, researcher, and ritualist. Professor Emerita and founding coordinator of the graduate expressive arts program at Appalachian State University and Core Faculty of the European Graduate School for 20 years, she teaches and consults internationally. Her publications include textbooks, research articles and poetry celebrating the creative process in nature, art and life.
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