The Tunnel

The darkness around us becomes a tunnel to drive thru the night.

The songs on the radio carry us along racing to our destination.

But the night stretches the end beyond our reach.

The pain and fatigue make us anxious for home but the tunnel is demanding.

Rough stretches at the maximum speed allowed, feel like standing still.

Opposite travelers lights pinprick the night. Lighting the tunnel ahead.

Outside world present but untouchable. One a driver one a passive passenger.

One with eyes wide with caffeine the others eyes drooping in spite of it.

The lines of the road captivating and maddening. Home will come soon, really.

Unending Night

Depression comes and eats at my soul,

In its place it leaves a hole.

It’s filled with dread and loss of hope.

Each day drags on, I merely cope.

I struggle for purpose and what to do first.

I with indecision I seem to be cursed.

I lay in bed both day and at night,

I feel I’ve no energy to get up and fight.

Sleep seems to be the only relief,

For the internal, invisible, personal grief.

I wait and I hope for a way to break free,

Light in the tunnel to finally see.

But till then I’ll just keep up the fight

Until there’s an end to the unending night.

Written 3/27/18

***FYI. I'm OK.  Just deal with depression like lots of other people.  This rattled around till it had to come out.***

My Childhood Part One... (To Be Continued)

How many of you know I grew up on a small farm? We lived on a rural street, an actual country block.

We lived on 3 and ½ acres of land with a maple forest behind us. Our neighbors actually made maple syrup back there while I was growing up. No Mrs Butterworth for us, we had the real thing. Papa would take me back to the woods during sugaring time and we sneak sips of sap from the cold galvanized buckets hanging from the trees.

We always had a garden with sugar snap peas in early spring winding their curly little tendrils up the twine ladders Papa and I would string up for them. It was always my job to wind the errant tendrils. I had little fingers. Then Kentucky wonder green beans, and always tomatoes. Cherry and slicing ones. Sometimes Roma’s. Hills of squash and zucchini. Corn. Sweet and field. Some for us and some for the animals. The first days of being barefoot in the spring. The dirt frigid on my bare toes. Then later the blazing heat of summer and the dried out dirt. Being careful to not stick my hands into a garden spider’s zig zaggy web. Being grossed out by smut on the corn. Then, the endless picking...of everything. Mama canned tomato sauce, and green beans, peas and corn got frozen. We’d usually get strawberries and blueberries from somewhere nearby and those got frozen. Peaches and applesauce got canned. Sometimes jellies. Maple syrup got canned as well to preserve it.

We had my aunt’s horse for awhile when I was little and some cows but what animals I always remember were the chickens, and sheep. Cold, cold mornings. Most of the ewe’s seemed to pick the coldest of the cold mornings to have their lambs. But the barn, in reality, a small building attached to the back of our big stand alone garage, would be warm and cozy. Smelling of sweet hay and a little of manure. Then once the lamb was born smelling of dampness, and afterbirth. Papa and Nugget, our Australian Shepherd mix, and I and sometimes Mama would hunker down in the hay with the lambing ewe and be ready with hot water and ready hands in case she had trouble or the lamb was breach.

The chicken coop had a smell of its own and always a little twinge of fear of the crazy roosters who liked to try to land on my head while I stole eggs from the hens in the mornings. Occasionally finding baby chicks under a hen instead of eggs!

Both the sheep and chickens were raised for food. So usually there was a butchering time. And sometimes in the winter someone would hit a deer down the road from us and since this was before cell phones, the driver would come to our house to call the state highway patrol. By the time they would make that call, Papa would have checked out the deer and the damage done to it. If salvageable he’d get on the line with the patrolman and ask if he could have the deer. Most of the time the answer was yes. Then the day would become a butchering day. The big table was set up in the garage and the deer was hung upside down from the boom on the back of the big tractor. Once bled out we’d skin and dress it out and Ma would can most of the venison into stew chunks and we’d get the most wonderful venison stew with garden peas and onions and potatoes on cold, cold winter evenings.

Papa built me a tree-house one year. It was my favorite place to be for many many many summers. I still miss it. I liked being up high. I also had a rope swing. And I’d go on “adventures” on my bike. Usually not much further then back to the back garden. But sometimes if I was feeling really brave back to the woods and home again. (Not very far at all.)

We always had kittens, cats and at least one dog. I LOVE animals. Probably because they were my constant companions. I relate to animals much better than humans.

A Poem for Micky

A Poem for Micky. 3/12/16

By Abigail R LoCascio

There is a girl, I love her face.

In my heart she has a place.

When she leaves I'll miss her so.

I wish she didn't have to go.

She loves Jehovah with all her heart.

Her parents gave her an excellent start.

At every meeting without fail,

She filches my necklace and off she'll sail.

I know she's sad to leave her friends,

But, then, true friendship never ends.

She'll leave us all behind and go

To make new friends, and she'll show

Them her sweet whacky self.

Her old friends placed upon the shelf.

But one day soon, if we all strive,

We'll be in paradise, strong and alive.

And we won't have to say goodbyes.

Or miss each other as tears we cry.

I know my "Gurly" whose face I love

Will worship our dear God above.

No matter where she has to live,

All of her heart she'll always give.

I know she's able to be strong.

We'll see each other before too long.

Whatever pathway she might pave

I know my "Gurly" will be brave.

Forever in my heart a place.

Forever I will love her face.

Act One

The darkness overwhelms me,  shadows, fear, pain. A fog envelops me, for that is when I am pressured to perform. To convince that I am normal. That because I am young I have no pain, no reason for exhaustion.  But I am Pain, I am Exhaustion. I am old under this skin. They see the smile on the outside, the cheerful voice and come to expect it, so when it impossible for me to show that, I am just too spent, they feel justified in calling me rude. Saying I have no compassion. I'm sorry if my compassion is missing. Where is yours? Is it missing too? Excuse me while I try to muster up enough energy to apologize. Let me try to escape the fog enough to understand what you are implying. Don't worry. Tomorrow the mask will be in place once more. I'm glad you enjoyed my performance today. Day spent,  I head home peeling back the layers to reveal the fatigue, the fraud, the tears, the pain. The "real" me that is taking over like I am a host. I wasn't always like this. I slip into darkness and repair the cracks in the mask, find the friendly voice that I misplaced during the day. So by morning the performance begins again. I'll do better today, I promise. The sun is shining. I'm fine. Really...

The Edge

I'm standing on the edge of night
I think I'm beginning to see the light
With darkness behind and light up ahead
I silently creep out of my bed
With sleep still tugging from the rear
I feel the sunshine coming near
An early bird begins his song
To us alone this moment belongs
Watching the sun present his rays
I'm standing on the edge of day

Zoey and the Lambs (June 2011)

It was early morning. So early it was still almost dark outside. Ruthie was sounds asleep when Papa reached out of the darkness and touched her shoulder.

"Zoey," he said softly, he smelled faintly of hay and the smoke from the garage's stove, "Rise and shine, Snowball is almost ready to have her baby."

Zoey's eyes opened sleepily and she rubbed her eyes.

"Come on little girl Snowball and I need your help." Papa said as he went down the steps blocking out the light as he went.

Zoey rolled out of the bed and padded over to one of her windows. It was all frosted up from the cold. She put her small hand on the glass to melt the ice so she could see out. It was dark but the yard was lit from the security light. The snow sparkled. The stairway light lit her way as Zoey found a pair of old pants and a sweatshirt and then she rooted under her blankets to find her socks that she'd kicked off during the night. The floor had chilled her bare toes so she sat on the edge of the bed to put her socks and pants on over her pajama pants and then yawning she pulled the sweathirt over her pajama shirt. It was so cold out she knew she'd be glad to have the extra layer.

Zoey could hear Mama and Papa talking down in the kitchen as Mama got the breakfast things out. She heard the clunk of the griddle as Mama put it on the stove and the screech of the silverware drawer. The griddle meant Mama was probably making pancakes and sausage and maybe even blueberry sauce!

Zoey scooted down the steps on her behind, sometimes the steep steps scared her and she was afraid to go down them like a big girl.

Mama stopped mixing the pancake batter and told Zoey to get some bands from the bathroom and her brush. While Mama braided Zoey's long brown hair into pigtails, Papa mixed up some formula and put it into two bottles and put them into Zoey's coat pockets. Then he pulled on his coveralls and barn boots. His stocking cap then went on almost covering his eyebrows. Gloves finished the outfit and then he had Mama fill a big black rubber bucket with hot water.

As soon as Zoey's hair was braided and the bucket filled Mama helped Zoey into her own pair of snowpants and barn boots then a coat, stocking cap and thck mittens. She gave her a couple of old flannel rags. And then Papa and Zoey stomped out into the cold.

It was so cold out that the air stung Zoey's face and froze the inside of her nose. Nugget, Australian Shepherd, bounded around them wanting to play.

"Let's go Nugget!" Papa said, "Snowball's having her baby!"

"Woof!" said Nugget.

The snow crunched under their feet as they walked and little snow devils whirled in the driveway as they crossed it to the garage and barn.

Smoke rose from the garage's chimney making the world smell like "ham and cheese" as Zoey called it.

The barn was around the corner from the garage, it was really only an addition to the back of the big 3 car garage but Papa had it fixed up nice for the sheep with a section for the ewe's to eat and a special area for the mamas to have their babies.

Sliding open the barn door, Papa, Nugget and Zoey slipped in trying to keep the cold out. The barn smelled cozy, with scents of sweet grain feed, damp wool and hay.

Archie and Lily the two lambs whose Mama's couldn't feed them because of udder problems, bleated a greeting.

"You go ahead and feed the lambs and I'll see how Snowball is doing." Papa instructed.

Zoey climbed over the gate. and two hungry lambs nuzzled her hands and coat and knees looking for their bottles. Giggling she settled in a clean corner of hay to feed the two lambs. Lily was a petite Suffolk lamb with a black face and Archie was a stout precocious Corriedale with a white face.

Holding a bottle in each hand she settled to feeding the two lambs who wiggled their long uncropped tails furiously and sucked greedily. They made quick work of their milk. Their mamas watched contentedly as they ate their own breakfast of sweet feed.

Archie finished his breakfast first so while Lily finished hers Zoey peeked over the gate. Papa had his coveralls off and flopped over the gate. He was crouched in the straw next to Snowball who was laying on her side breathing heavily. He rolled up the sleeves of his old long sleeve wool undershirt. After rinsing his hands in the bucket of hot water he dried them on his old work pants.

Just then a grunt escaped from Snowball.

"Oh boy, here we go!" Papa said. "Come help."

Zoey pulled the bottle away from and indignant Lily and shoved it back in her coat pocket to keep the little bit of milk that was left warm and scrambled back over the gate. She unzipped her coat and flopped over the gate next to Papa's and then removed her hat and scarf. She quickly dipped her hands in the scalding water and shook them off.

She knelt in the straw next to Snowball's head and stroked her velvety ears. Snowball snuffled at her and grunted again.

"Here Honey, come look, you can see the baby's head. Thank goodness. Her last 2 babies cam breach."

Zoey crawled around to Snowball's backside. A teeny tiny white nose peeked out, and as Snowball pushed the whole head appeared.

As Snowball strained 2 small hooves appeared tucked under the baby's chin. Then came the neck, shoulder and then, PLOP, a whole baby lamb.

Snowball scrambled to her feet and licked and fussed and nosed her baby. Papa made sure that the lamb's nose and mouth were clear of afterbirth.

Snowball nudged her baby trying to make it stand up.

"Help him stand Zoey. Help him get his legs under him."

"Is it a him?" Zoey asked.

Papa checked under his tail. No I guess its not. She's a girl. One day you can help her have babies of her own!"

"Neat!!"

"Ok once you get her used to standing then help her find her mama's teet so she can nurse. Lambs need their mama's milk right away. I'll give Lily the rest of her bottle before she knocks the gate down. Lily was banging loudly on the gate with her little hooves still indignant at her interupted breakfast.

Zoey settled in the straw and pulled the damp gangly lamb into her lap. Snowball watched closely and nuzzled her baby and nudged Zoey with her nose.

"What shall we call her?" Papa asked from the other side of the gate.

"I dunno. I hafta think about it." Zoey replied.

She held the lamb under its belly trying not to touch the icky umbilical cord. Soon it seemed to get the idea that it was supposed to stand on its legs.

By now Papa had finished feeding Lily and was silently leaning over the gate watching his daughter as she concentrated on helping this tiny helpless creature.

Zoey finally reached under Snowball's belly and gently touched her udder so as not to startle the ewe. Then she found a teet and gelty squeezed until a little milk came out onto her fingers. Then she rubbed her fingers on the lambs mouth. The lamb sneezed. Zoey tryed again. This time the lamb smacked her gums as the taste of the milk registered on her taste buds.

Papa laughed. "She likes it!"

Zoey aimed the wobbly baby with its 'airplane' ears toward Snowball's nipple and pried open the lamb's mouth. She quickly popped the nipple into its mouth and squeezed the base of the nipple. The lamb swallowed twice and then started to suck.

Zoey let out a "Aha!" and clapped which startled both the baby and the Mama and she had to do the process all over again. But this time when the lamb caught on she stayed real still and quiet and the lamb ate greedily.

Snowball and Pap both seemed satisfied that the baby was ok.

Papa rinsed his hands in the bucket and so did Zoey and they both struggled back into their warm things.

Papa checked on all the sheep once more and made sure everyone had eaten and had fresh water. He lowered the heat lamp down closer to Snowball and her new baby. And then patted Snowball's rump.

"You did good old girl. You did good."

They turned off the barn lights and then slipped back out into the cold morning air. The snow glittered and glistened. Letting her scarf flop, Zoey ran across the driveway whooping and hollering with joy of life, with Nugget barking at her heels.

Papa laughed heartily. Life was good.

They bumbled throught the front door to smells of pancakes and blueberry sauce. Tuffy the farm cat and snuck in with them and wound his way around their ankles.

After they thanked Jehovah for the day and the food and the new little lamb, they told Mama all about the baby and how well she had come into the world. And Papa told how much Zoey had helped.

They later named the baby Annabelle and sure enough Zoey did help her have her own babies a couple years later.

Change (9/2010)

Do you fear change the way I do?
Well I know just what you're going through.
I the blink of an eye your life takes a path,
That a moment before it might never have.

Your stomach lurches
As your heart searches
For some stability,
But lost is your ability.

Your comfort zome attacked,
Into a corner you're backed.
Instead embrace change
Things of the past rearrange.

Allow the changes your shell to breach,
Or else you're grasping for something you can't reach.
Learn to go
With the flow.

You can't be happy clinging to the past,
You're allowed to move on, memories last.

So embrace the future and the changes that it holds.
Out and face the future, stand tall and be bold.

Base life on the future and be free at last.

Papa

 

Papa was a simple man who cared for others all his life
He found a sweet and simple gal who soon became his wife
They took him off to prison because he wouldn't fight
But the trials that he faced there did not destroy his light
While he was there her Mama died, the news so very sad
And the family home burned down; they lost everything they had
But he loved his wife, he loved his God, and so he kept right on
And when he walked home from the bus, he ran into her arms
A few years later, going home one day, they were in a crash
His muscles and her bones were very torn and smashed
She was dead and he was gonna be was the news that day
But then they found she was alive; she hadn't slipped away
The two of them took time to heal and soon they bought a house
This simple and sweet loving man and his wife "The Mouse"
Then one day to their surprise they got some shocking news
That they would soon be three instead of only two
I came into their world on a cold, January morn
A gift from Jah they always said when I asked how I was born
They raised me and they taught me so many wonderful things
How to live and serve our God and all the joy that brings
Now that he's gone and I reflect upon our time together
I wish I'd had more time here now to get to know him better
But thanks to our God that he taught me about I'll get a chance one day
To hug him and to thank him and to finally say
I love you Papa I always have, and thanks for being my dad
You and Ma were the best parents that I ever could've had

7/17/2010

Treebreathers

Deep within the forest green
There lives a race unheard unseen
They live their lives among the trees
Because without them they would cease
Their bodies have a faulty gene
I came upon this race so rare
When we came upon their lair
The company was cutting trees
When I heard an eerie wheeze
Floating in the sawdust air
I had the men shut down the saws
And left them in the charge of Dawes
There was something in the forest
Chanting in a choking chorus
Quite noticable in our pause
I held up my hand to tell then men
To not do anything and then
I stepped into the forest deep
As quietly as I could creep
And heard the sounds again
As I walked I heard a sigh
"Do not continue for we shall die."
I looked around in frantic awe
And from the treetops then I saw
A small dark man swing down from high
"Who are you?" I bluntly asked
"And why do you resent our task?"
"My People must live among the trees
The way the fishes need the seas
We are a strange but simple race
But now a problem we do face
Each tree cut down means our death
Fro from each tree we get our breath
We've lived among the trees for years
Have lived our lives with joy and tears
Our lungs grew used to so much purity
It seemed we would endure with surity
And then you came with your machines
With them you shattered hopes and dreams
For first the old ones passed away
And then the weak ones fell each day
And now the young are dying too
They cannot breathe you see and you,
Go right on chopping down the trees..."
With that he fell upon his knees
He gasped for air and clutched my shirt
Within his eyes I saw the hurt
He'd lost so many and I knew
Many more would die soon too
For I knew this forest was almost gone
We hauled out lumber by the ton
The company owner was a heartless man
The head of a million dollar clan
Who cared for nature only when
It made him money and paid his men
Though I felt the deed was done
I had to try to save these ones
I called the master then and there
But he said he didn't care
To get those people off his land
And get the saws on and manned
I helped the native to his feet
For I had yet to be beat
I told the men to start their work
Inside I felt like such a jerk
Into the forest we then fled
I followed the native as he led
The way deep into the trees
Natives surrounded me like bees
"I'll try again" I fairly wept
Off to the side with my cell I crept
And phoned my friend Suzanne LaRue
Who surely would know what to do
She pulled some strings and wouldn't you know
She worked a miracle and so
To this day in a strange land
Cutting trees is strictly banned
For there in a teeny tiny forest
Singing and enchanting chorus
The Treebreathers live in peace
Their whole lives among the trees
(Finished 6/21/2010) All rights Abigail R. LoCascio


https://www.blurb.com/b/7372651-the-treebreathers