My first was stillborn,
My cries carried across the fields on the cusp of a winter storm
The snow lay thick on the ground,
I lay like a mewling ewe and cradled her in my arms
Before the long walk home.
There were others, each swelling of my belly a signal of his pervasive masculinity.
Three brothers followed by a changeling child and so we were cast aside forced to live as outcasts
I moved boulders and stones and tilled the soil, back-breaking into the dead of night
A bairn on my back and another one snug as a bug deep inside.
He couldn’t feel my pain.
One by one they all moved on, they wearied at our laborious life
They found themselves new families and took themselves a wife
And I was left behind, old hag with sagging breasts
No milk to nursefeed bairns on winter nights
No place for my wearied bones to rest.
© Alison Jean Hankinson
This is for imaginary garden with real toads where we were invited to write in the voice of another.
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Hues of Hankinson 
A thoroughly hard life she’s had. And such vivid descriptions. So good!
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Thank you Vivian, XX
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🙂
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Such a heartbreaking read Allison. But the said life of many a poor woman. Your descriptions are riveting.
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Thank you. Much love. XX
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Hugs to you and your precious daughters
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WOW! Alison, this poem is just so moving. I can absolutely feel the truth of that mother’s pain – the loss, the toil, the kids moving on tired of the hardship, the sagging breasts – all of it. A truly spectacular write. The opening lines go straight to the heart. Thank you for this poem. I am intrigued by your banner photo – it looks like my part of the world on the west coast of Canada. Wondering if it is.
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It is a little seaside town called Morecambe in Lancashire. England. Much love. Xx
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A sad fate, which must have been the simple truth for many. You make her voice very real.
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Thank you. Sending you much love. XXX
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Sigh this is truly heart-breaking!😥 I feel women from all around the world face oppression and suffer pain… but oh to have a Latong to share it with.. 💜
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I like to think we all have each other if we reach out in our hour of need. X
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A story pulled from forever and still happening this day…potent writing.
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Thank you. Much love. Xx
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Such a moving stroy. The opening stanza establishes the voice and mood extremely well.
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Thank you very much. Sending you much love. XXX
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so achingly beautiful .
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Thank you. Much love. XXXX
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This is so well written. I can feel her sense of constant labor and misery.
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