Exceptional A face in a photograph. The Crying Mare by Shirley Ann Bunyan Free Verse Poetry Contest contest entry

You were a face in a photograph on Grandma’s mantelpiece steeped into my history born again on sun-baked afternoons when the swell of nostalgia returned her to china urns chicken coops farm toil black soil turning the century back to when you held her hand grinning like a prized sheep dog she said yes leaves scattered in spent surrender big-bellied by Spring spindly fingers would recount the order the little ones came the ones who lived she made do with lard soap and fire-cooked pot slow meals stewed from nothing and anything her favourite pig was Cuthbert she hadn’t eaten pork that Christmas harvest was the best of times travelling gangs excited children linen wrapped field food horse tails switching you sang at the great suppers under the gaze of the Kern Baby she was ninety two you were a time ago face in a photo there was never talk of battering or bruises not until yesterday’s lunch dried on the plate and the muted sunlight of final harvest faded with the Crying Mare Author Notes The last corn that was gathered would be made into a human shape, dressed in fine clothes and crowned with flowers and called the â??Kern Babyâ?? or â??Harvest Queen.â?? There would be feasting and music to celebrate the harvest.

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