Ye Olde New England

Like Death with his ever-present Hood
History breathes in New England.
For our Worse or for Good,
The Silent Neighbor in our Land.
Forget the Past now, if You Dare
Death Sneers with a Skeletal Grin
Ancestors Choke, claims Hawthorne's Pen:
We're doomed to Repeat our Sins.
Fire us Up with Essays Ablaze!
"Try it your way!" is Emerson's Urge.
Live self-reliantly, Questioning All:
The Individualist's Dirge.
"Back to Nature," crows Thoreau
Dead More than a Century.
Simplify your Life in a Bare Cabin,
Or under Possessions You are Buried!
Peek through the Window at
Four Sisters Huddled Round.
Writing, Marrying, Angelic and Brave,
An Alcott Tableau of a Time Gone.
Dare you Read These Simple Lines
Of Dickinson's? Her spare Words
Inspire Poets to Dance with her Ghost,
Though Alive she was Unheard.
So whether You Choose to Embrace
Or Cast these Dead Writers Away,
There they sit in the Bookstore,
Stretching from History down to this Day.
Hawthorne, Emerson, Longfellow, Too.
Dickinson, Thoreau, Alcott -
You are dead, yet Living, aren't You?
Of our Past New England Forgets Not!
~ Meg North

3 comments:
That poem is brilliant.
Truly.
I agree with the previous comment. That poem is truly brilliant. It's so stirring and rich. xx
You write so beautifully...I love your poems.
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