A recent trip back to North Dakota for a family funeral for a favorite Aunt, Bernice Alfson, was a special time for me to see her grandchildren grown and her great grandchildren who were new to me. I had written a poem in remembrance at 2 AM before the one day trip, but the tributes at the funeral by her grandchildren were more apt and a pleasant reminder of the wonderful person that so many of us called "Barney" or "Aunt Barney." She was a person of great warmth and kindness. Here is a late draft of the poem I wrote in remembrance of her.
Drifting over the drumlin
Tonight the stream is up blowing crystals
Desert dry o'r the ridge onto the lee.
This ridge of mounds scoured by polar winds
Was once the debris wall of an empire of ice.
Was it the burden's mass pushed ahead
By the invading ice (tiring of onslaught)?
Or did sun shine warmly on day of rest,
Leaving debris a sign of far enough?
From here the First People signaled with smoke
The bison's direction in the sea of grass.
Later emigrant scouts atop these mounds
Scanned to the horizon for fields of promise.
Below in the ridge's lee a finger lake
Collects the snow's runoff and hosts the flocks.
I hear here a loved one with wisdom blessed
Who stops eternity from such a spot.
She places her foot out, remembers
That time long ago on a sylvan shore.
Now she pushes at air as once she pushed
At waves washing ashore with her prospects.
A moment shoeless girl sudden bounded
Start and raise family, so soon to leave.
Winds speed, spirits journey, from this bleak ridge.
Give her wish its flight, resounding air.
I beg you feel this ocean of air here
At this place; leap off with a lighter heart.
