Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CLAY PIPE, by J. O. GARRETT


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CLAY PIPE, by                    
First Line: The old log house, built by his own hands
Last Line: "I shall sleep."" and a door closed silently."
Subject(s): American Civil War; Grandparents; Pioneers; Southern States; United States - History; Grandmothers; Grandfathers; Great Grandfathers; Great Grandmothers; South (u.s.)


The old log house, built by his own hands
In those wilderness days, still stands,
And its great open fireplace welcomes.
Taking his pipe from his mouth, my grandsire
Sat in deep thought by the oakwood fire, whose flames
Were moving, struggling men, living again
In dreams, in rememberings: --
His mother weeping as he leaves for the war;
The cannons' red roar at dawn;
Soldiers with arms outflung,
Staggering, falling at Murfreesboro, at Bull Run.

The emptiness and devastation of his Southland;
Bewildered, helpless slaves huddling about their cabins;
The grave of his mother, marked by a three-year
Willow, disheveled and sighing.
An immigrant train:
Wagons, toiling oxen, sleepless men
Move across his vision.
Indians clinging to the sides of their maddened horses
Encircle these stranger pilgrims.
At the crack of his rifle
A horse and rider plunge to the earth.
Startled... he is awakened from his dream
And sees that the stick of wood burned in two
Has fallen.
Turning to his Eveline he thinks aloud:
"Mother, the woodlands are changed,
And today I saw wild cranes passing,
And I felt restless,
Because life's winter is upon us."
Then, knocking the ashes from his pipe,
He arose, wound the clock, and said,
"I shall sleep." And a door closed silently.





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