Emile Pinet Poet Quatrain

Clear Mountain Streams

Panes of dirty glass conceal the past
where futures were tied to land and soil.
And pa fingers a hand full of dirt
reflecting on years of pain and toil.

A rusty sun bronzes a foil star
ma hung in the window for good luck.
And a small candle awaits a match
to defend against the dark when struck.

Hunger gnaws at our empty stomachs,
everything we plant is doomed to die.
And yet, ma slips me and pa a smile,
showing us where her loyalties lie.

Looking up to a burnt almond sky,
she searches for clouds other than dust.
And scans for life in neighboring homes
long ago left to decay and rust.

Abandoning a dream lost to time,
ma loses hope and accepts defeat.
And I can see the pain in pa's eyes,
the trickling tears mocking his conceit.

California calls in shades of green,
with lush pastures and clear mountain streams.
And common sense says that we must move
far from this dust bowl of dying dreams.


(Quatrain)


9/23/2017

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Line Gauthier March 8, 2018 at 8:46 AM A beautiful heartfelt powerful portrait of a hardworking family living in dire poverty. A FAVE for me, Emile. Emile Pinet March 8, 2018 at 9:48 AM Thanks Line, I appreciate you insightful comments. Emile.

Carole Duet September 23, 2017 at 8:38 PM A perfect description of a farmer's struggle to survive when there's a draught. So sad...but a great write! Emile Pinet September 24, 2017 at 9:23 AM Thank you Carole, your support and comments are always most welcome my friend, Emile.

Heidi Sands September 23, 2017 at 1:55 PM Wow, what a well written story with such detail Emile. ! :) Emile Pinet September 23, 2017 at 5:33 PM Thank you Heidi, your support is greatly appreciated my friend, Emile.

Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart September 23, 2017 at 10:43 AM A rich well woven tale, nice pen my friend xomo Emile Pinet September 23, 2017 at 5:33 PM Thank you Maureen, your support is greatly appreciated my friend, Emile.