they came from overseas—they rode
the wagons,
poled the flatboats, hiked the
mountain trails,
hitched their skirts to wade the
rivers,
took their turn as lookouts in
the night.
They were here when trees were
felled.
They helped to raise the cabin
walls
and gather wood for heating.
They labored with their men as
equals
through days of hardship and nights of fear;
the forests were full of danger, the land was full of promise.
They helped assure survival and did the work without
complaint:
cooking, sewing, caring for the
sick,
churning, washing, tending to their children.
They labored with each birth of child, animal, and season.
They cried without tears and sang their babes to sleep.
They built this land and yet
their names
are not written in the history
books;
they lived lives unknown and
unremembered
by those who followed after.
They were wives of scouts and
settlers,
hunters and riverboatmen, men honored
in books, on monuments, in songs
that tell their deeds and doings.
They lived, they worked, they died
and laid to rest in lonesome places
overgrown with weeds and lost to time.
They were here and tamed this land
with their woman’s touch.
Remember them.
For they were here.
Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.
Wonderfully written. I love it.
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