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Selma Makkela
printed all the news fit to print.
The Hemmilas had a boy,
Erickson's cow was hit by lightening,
The Polks motored to Chicago
for their grandson's graduation.
Nothing to cause you anger
or "take to bed worry."
When you saw Willard
at the feed store, you could ask how
Mildred's broken leg was coming along,
send an anniversary card
to the Mattsens,
keep an eye out for
Johnson's lost calico cat.
The news connected you
to community,
safe in the knowledge
you were informed enough
to know just what
was going on.
This poem first appear in the Wilda Morris Poetry Challenge.
Used here with the author’s permission.
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Peggy Trojan, after a career of teaching English, retired to the north woods of Wisconsin. There, she and her husband, David, with the help of family, built a house next to a trout stream. Peggy stays busy writing and making jam from the raspberry patch she carefully and lovingly tends. Peggy is a member of the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, and is the author of two full-length poetry collections and six chapbooks. Learn more about her here.
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Buckner14:
Oh, boy, this takes me back! Thanks for sharing it; people who never read a small-town newspaper don"t know how much they've missed!
Posted 03/16/2014 07:25 PM
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lincolnhartford:
Well written Peggy. I found such a community in an apt.complex in Chicago, believe it or not. Been looking for another ever since.
Posted 03/15/2014 03:41 PM
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Ralph Murre:
Nice work, Peggy. (As I have come to expect.)
Posted 03/15/2014 09:16 AM
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tiddles:
My grandmother wrote a "social" column for the Weyawega paper years and years ago.Your poem brought back heritage memories. Thanks. Marilyn Zelke-Windau
Posted 03/15/2014 08:26 AM
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TheSilverOne:
What a great reminder of those past days when we felt the safety of a community! Enjoyed reading this...and remembering.
Posted 03/15/2014 07:36 AM
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paradea:
Oh, for the good ol' days when that used to be enough! Nice poem.
Posted 03/15/2014 06:18 AM
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