Ancestry.com
Ancestry.com
The Liverpool census in 1851 lists him:
Thirteen years old, Irish. Occupation: beggar.
Only that. I will do more for him.
I will see him in torn jacket and too-short pants
singing all day of the fields, the cliffs, the Shannon
and Liffey, the Clares, Annies, and saucy Rosies.
I will give him a pure tenor and a brother clicking bones,
keeping time while he's tuned to the doings in the street
and to his big brother's sweet, hungry voice.
Two stevedores march past on their way to the docks.
Their clothes gray and their caps grimy, they are tired, silent
men who have no time, money, or even a listen to give them.
Here is a man coming through in a well-cut coat,
and his hat is a gentleman's hat. The boys eye him
slow down and stop. Sure, but he's English
thinks the singer and the rhythm of the bones
never falter though the player is thinking of boots.
They finish their tune, stand, stare, and wait.
“I'm a music teacher and I thank you for your music.”
He smiles, opens his purse, and hands them coins.
“Get some food, go home, rest your fingers, rest your voice.”
The kind man walks on and the beggars are done for the day.
The census taker's fine script hurled itself at me; his facts smashed something too soft in me, but I've caught these boys, given them music and food. Tomorrow I'll give them warmth.
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Author's Note
Maybe for a books of flashes and poems. I'm hung up on family. I feel them swirl within.
Other stories by Nonnie Augustine
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You did him proud.*
Those are our folks, I imagine. These two seem less desperate and crazy than I imagine mine... desperate and crazy and ignorant... Poor bastards, not much different from their heirs.
Love this.
Btfly done Nonnie. Quality stuff *
Nonnie, you did so much more for him, wow. I love the way you wrote this, it's so gentle *
A good piece. Enjoyed.
*, Nonnie. I loved this piece. So sensitive to real needs.
A day in the life.... *
There are novels hidden in the small pearls of history. Yes, write that book.
This was a pleasure to read, Nonnie.
Nonnie, this is beautiful.*
For some reason, Fictionaut is acting glitchy and this story just lost favs. I guess my * is cursed somehow. (Sorry!)
I love this. You have indeed given them warmth. *
I enjoyed this very much.
Cuts across the years. I love the idea of giving your ancestors blood and back stories rather than faded entries in a ledger. Well done.
Absolutely fantastic! Has this been published? If not, please message me, Nonnie. Wonderful, wonderful!
I tried Ancestry.com for two weeks after I discovered that the Swedish side of my father's family line, the detailed anonymously provided tree, had vanished from the net. My mother said that probably the creator of it had sold it to a geneaology site. Ancestry provides many documents of near members of the family, including identification and draft cards. It seemed difficult if not impossible to begin to rebuild the tree going by memory without knowing middle initials of members of my own grandmother's family, with last names like Olson and Peterson and Nelson, guesses at best that easily could go wrong at any step of the process of retracing those relations. Fortunately, there are genealogical sources to refer to offline in my family.
Great approach in this poem. The descriptive status and dates are in the life.*