September 16, 1996
This week, we are featuring a story written by Marie Finlay, from Newfoundland. Marie, a displaced fish worker, has four wonderful children and a precious granddaughter. In 1987, she lost her husband through a drowning. She says writing has helped her survive the difficult years since the accident.
As I look out my window,
I see wind gently blowing, grass in an empty meadow
Waves softly splashing upon the beach
Sun shining brightly over the naked seas.
Memory
takes me back in time.
How different it once was to look out my window.
I would see little children playing in the meadows
The sun blazing on fishing boats returning to shore
with their catch
That tired but pleasant face coming towards the house,
home from a day on the sea.
All that's
no more.
The children have grown up
The boats lie in some deserted place
And that familiar face smiles in my doorway no more.
[This poem is taken from A Newfoundland Spell, p.13, a collection of stories written by adult learners in basic education programs in Newfoundland.]