Saturday 18 August 2018

Still in Search of roots

Prompted by a census 1911 search I took a literal journey to my roots.

In Search of Mother

A journey I would not have taken,
Cross border, cross time
Into a past best forgotten,
If not to find the place
Where she was born.

A gap, an ache, a yawn,
In the row that used to house
The Hursons and the Dillons
And the Kirks and the Stewarts.

Their back yards now strewn
With black rubber tyres, rusted wheel
Rims, discarded spares and parts.
Nothing to salvage here
of her beginnings.

Copyright with Cathy Leonard 2018

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