Wind In The Timothy Press
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Wind In The Timothy Press |
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The gloom of winter fog at dusk Tempered by the cooking hearth, But darkened by the cough of consumption Made black by the certainty of hopelessness. A sickly girl of uncertain mind Unable to run or dance Hobbling on quests not her own Has a wan smile for mom, but A pail of water is impossible. "Would you gets some chips From the woodshed floor Next the splitting block?"
A spare girl in gray shawl Is hardly noticeable Bent low in picking. How could the hired man's dull axe In glancing blow Find such soft, gray tissue? A mother's descent to despair Becomes freefall to distraction, A family undone.
Dan Allen
The gravestone says, "Polly Boutelle, who was killed by the casual stroke of an axe, born 12 Jul 1812, died 12 Nov 1822." The gravestone is in the first row of the Enosburg Center Cemetery in Vermont. The gravestone also says,
She was the next older sibling of Sarah Boutelle, Dan Allen's great-great grandmother. Dan lives with his wife Natalie in New London, NH, in a house he built himself, part of it of stone. He has hiked the entire Appalachian Train in winter
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