by Madonna Wilt

Created on: April 16, 2010

Migrant Camper

Dad was born in the mud of a migrant farm camp.

That year, they stayed on year-round.

His family was one of the lucky ones.

The owner’s wife worried about the children.

Plenty of work during the winter months,

Not much pay, you understand,

But still a roof over the family’s head.

They lived under that crooked roof

For five years,

Two more children,

Still no electricity

And still no plumbing.

Until Grandpa got drafted and left

His wife and three young children alone

In the shack, looking out

A solitary blackened window.

And that nice lady

Whose husband owned

The farm taught the children.

Dad learned well

The lessons that she taught

About the ruler, backed in the corner.

He pushed her

Into the electric radiator,

That made the classroom feel warmer than home,

And burnt the backs of her legs.

Raw blisters, sweltering pain to match hers,

At home more of the same.  No future,

No education, Dad got

Kicked-out.

The same year Grandma packed

Her family up and moved

To an apartment in the city

And a job that paid.

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