Family Poem

STILL

Mama took me home to the Appalachians,

where her parents had a place near Valle Crucis,

off the road at Mast's General Store

up around the mountain.

I slept on a cot next to Mama.

In the middle of the night, I remember

waking to wander into the woods

walked until I found them at work.

Grandpappy sat in his ladderback rocker,

telling George when to add more wood to the fire.

I curled up in his lap and listened

to the quiet whoosh of owl wings

the piercing screech of a squirrel caught for dinner,

and the owl call -- Who cooks for you?

as he searched for a mate to share his meal.

I held my breath, waiting for her answer….

Grandpappy rocked in rhythm and told

stories about all my relations,

as the crystal liquid hissed and sizzled

dripping from the copper worm--

A cider moon grew large overhead,

shaking shadows from the trees.

In the morning, I'd wake on my little cot,

covered by a family quilt.

I'd look for proof of the night's reality

and find only warmth from kinfolk

guiding every step of my dirty feet.

I once had the pleasure of meeting the world famous storyteller Ray Hicks who lived in the mountains of North Carolina in a cabin without electricity.  He talked to me about the importance of saving family stories.  His life was certainly different from mine and so this poem is a combination of my memories and his life.  Can you write a poem about an incident in your family?