Living History

I'd no idea that my daddy
Was living history
When he farmed Dakota prairies
Back in nineteen thirty three.

I was born in his later years,
I never asked him how
He could till the virgin lands with
His horses and his plow.

I suppose now that he truly
Was heroic pioneer
Who thrived by his own strength
And the will to persevere.

I remember him as old and worn;
I never wondered why.
I'll regret the unasked questions
Every day until I die.

Mama as his strong companion
And helper for my dad,
Was not much of a complainer
Over hardships that she had.

I wonder what she would have thought
Of me and my routine.
Would she warn me I'd be blinded
By this computer screen?

As oldsters pass they take with them
The times you'll never see.
Don't forget to ask those questions
Of your living history.

By: Joyce 7/18/04