Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current | View Entire Issue (Dec. 15, 1971)
it was a return of our unborn being then as the cool dark gusks squeezed our arms and legs with their raw embraces we ran to the county ride truck and drove home in a generator warmed silence the bwbnds reader w. As South Dakota farmscape changes into exotic Picasso prints on a patchwork tradition, I dream of the hundreds of gowns I would sew for Aphrodite if, . ',X;- ivr " .il J i k. - - the midnight 1949 Chevrolet pick-up gave you and me a county fair ride to the Platte River to your secret oasis the wheat and corn fields rasped a breezy blues in the background in the prairie through your vin du pays glasses our heads dazzled with the intoxicating grape rays of an expiring sun of running out beams upon the touch of the Platte River current we became water kites we became water clouds in an aqueous sky drifting and pulled to the whims of a spirit water father it was more than the river more than its summer satiated waters flowing about us The Camera Eye (two) With Apologies to John Dos Possos Thanks To Russ Cole It was winter the way winter used to be then with the trees and grass so that when it snowed it hung on the branches and the leaves and mother and father in the early evening would be peacefully silent and smiling and then sonny down from the stairs would say how it had snowed and I on her lap would go to the window to remember the branches covered white instead of frozen with dying. And grma and grpa at Christmas dinner with the toys now opened and stored for a day or two in separate corners of the big room and the toys not half of what the openning the wrapped surprises below the tree were. And then father to work in a day or two and the holiday was over except that we played in the snow making the older sad and happy to see the snow mared and the children playing until school again and sonny and roger with studying and I sitting learning to paint, tie my shoes and later to write stories of organ grinders with starving monkeys. And then spring and the night grma and grpa were in the other big room with father and mother and we were upstairs because something was happening which we could not hear. It must have been those bad words which they were saying which we were not to hear that we could not hear upstairs and I sneaking down the steps and listening at the big doors until they opened and no one noticed except mother who held me and I said loud so father and mother and grma and grpa could hear (sonny and roger upstairs could not hear, they were upstairs) why doesn't everyone kiss and be happy now. And then even after they looked at me mother put me down and said quietly go back upstairs and then no one at all noticed me again. And summer on the leaves and the trees and not more stories and tying shoes but asleep on mothers lap hoping they could not hear because of the noise of the old car until many days later the door opened and they said this is grma Alan and I said how if grma was in Lincoln and father and mother just laughed and were peacefully silent holding hands while they talked to this grma while sonny and roger and me just played in the trees and leaves. Photos by Russ Cole and Mike Theiler Short Story by Alan Boye Poems by Lucy Kerchberger PAGE 8 THE DAILY NEBRASKAN WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER '1 5, 1971