—Poems by Kimberly Bolton, Jefferson City, MO
—Anonymous Photos
TINTYPE OF A PIONEER WOMAN
Let me tell you ‘bout this here woman,
name of Rhody Hall.
She was a pioneer woman if ever there was one.
Rhody was born a Redford,
of the Stokes County, North Carolina Redfords,
who settled out there on Hixes Fork
right after the Revolutionary War.
In eighteen-and-seventeen she up and married
ole William Hall,
the first of them bunch of Halls to dig themselves
outta the mud of Hixes Fork and head out
to Missouri.
Rhody and Will loaded all their worldly goods
and eight children in a covered wagon
and lit out through the Cumberland.
Took ‘em a month or more to reach Missouri.
Built theirselves a cabin just south of the river
along Grindstone Creek.
Had seven more children before all was said
and done.
Back then, the more children you had,
the more hands there was to help out
on the farm.
It was hard on the women-folk, though.
Made ‘em old before their time,
All that work and worry and birthin’ babies year after year.
I seen a tintype onc’t of Rhody Hall.
Aint Rhody everbody ‘round these parts used to call her.
She had on a plain black dress with a little black bonnet,
the strings tied tight under her chin,
lookin’ just the way you’d figure a pioneer woman
such as herself would look.
She had hardship carved into her face alright.
You know, a man can traipse all over
this here country, leavin’ his mark for the
history books, draggin’ his womenfolk
and the children along behind him,
and they’d call it an adventure.
But you just ask any one of those women what
they might of thought about it,
and I’d bet my bottom dollar
them history books’d have some different to say.
She weren’t real pretty as I recall,
but neither would you or I be
if we had her hard row to hoe.
Rhody had a broad enough forehead
to keep her worries to herself.
RHODA AND WILL
They already had eight children between them
when they left Hixes Fork in Carolina
making the rough trek overland through the
Cumberland Gap.
More children would follow once they lay claim
to their small piece of Missouri.
There, along the banks of Grindstone Creek,
Rhoda and Will built their cabin within
a small stand of pines, surrounded by scrub oak
and sycamore trees.
They made a farm and a garden,
giving their lives and the lives of their offspring
room to grow, room enough to breathe.
In those early days,
when owning their own land
and all they had accomplished
with their own two hands was still flush
with pride,
taking precedence over even their
love for one another,
Rhoda and Will took to rising
before sun-up in the chill early mornings.
In silence, Will stoked the fire.
In silence, Rhoda ground the coffee,
set the kettle to boil on the stove.
They left the children abed so as to have
this time together for themselves alone,
which was all the time they would have.
For the rest of the day did not belong to them,
but to the land and the work the land required
of them.
In silence, Rhoda wrapped her shawl
about her shoulders.
Both she and Will stepped out of the cabin
into the freshness of new morning,
and in silence walked down to the creek bank,
where the water ran swift and clear.
In silence, they stood together,
not touching, but watching the current
flash by,
listening to the deep-throated frogs coax
the swell of the sun up overt the distant
hump-backed hills.
Rhoda and Will watched their world form
out of the low-lying fog.
This they did each morning,
forever it seemed.
A pleasurable duty.
And how small a thing it was,
husband and wife standing side by side,
letting the world reveal itself to them
as it was want to do.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
You’re never going to kill storytelling, because it’s built into the human plan. We come with it.
—Margaret Atwood
___________________
Welcome back to Kimberly Bolton, who was featured in the Kitchen recently. I asked her if I could call her a “cowboy poet”, having the knack for dialect and storytelling that she does, and she said, Sure. These poems are from her new book, Tales From Grindstone Creek. I love cowboy poetry, the history it brings—especially the new wave of cowgirl poets—and am proud to have such poets join us around the Kitchen table.
Kimberly says that, if people are interested in purchasing a copy of her previous book, Folk, they can order a copy by emailing her at boltonk@mrrl.org. Please include your name and mailing address. The books are $14.00, which includes shipping and handling. Then mail a check or money order to 214 Adams Street, Jefferson City, Mo. 65101, marked ATTN: Kim Bolton.
For more about the background of Folk, go to www.newstribune.com/news/news/story/2018/dec/27/bolton-shares-her-familys-rich-history-folk/758368/.
For up-coming poetry events in our area, scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
__________________
—Medusa, celebrating the poetry of our heritage ~
—Anonymous Tumbling Tumbleweeds
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