John McPherson
Nanuk thought it was time,
time to go out on the ice,
to relieve her family of one more useless
mouth to feed during this hungry time
when seals were scarce. They would
soon have to move. She did not want
to move again, her bones were too achy.
She remembered as a young girl when
the missionaries came; how they gasped
when they learned about the old way of
going out on the ice. Her people learned to
not tell them of such things. It did not happen
often anyway, and never against one’s will.
She had laughed inside at their strange ideas
about how to care for their old ones,
keeping them alive well past their usefulness.
She would ask her youngest granddaughter
to take her before the rest were awake.
One last ride, to hear the dogs once more,
to feel the icy wind on her face. The bears had gone,
looking for seals. It was a good time to go.
She would find a small mound
to lean back upon, close to the water
where the ice would soon break up
sending her frozen shell to the bottom of the
cool green sea.
Her spirit, though, would soar to a place
the missionaries knew little about.
It would be good to see the old ones again.
John McPherson started writing for contests in 2015 when he was in his mid-seventies. In addition to contests, his poems have appeared in The Avocet, a quarterly publication emphasizing poetry about nature; Post Scrip, an anthology of postcard poetry; and various other anthologies. His short stories have appeared in Del Garrett’s Vault of Terror, Volumes one, two, and three. He has served as President of White County Creative Writers, Gin Creek Poets, and Poets’ Roundtable of Arkansas. He currently lives in Searcy, Arkansas, just 20 miles from the small town he grew up in, having lived in Little Rock and Russellville.