Crossing Saint Clair

Fingers numb, Sadie ties
wolf skins to the pack
on the toboggan.

The river is finally solid.
She’s told she’s big enough
to toddle over ice.

She double-checks
her knots, picks up
the family hen, and steps

onto the margin between countries.

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I am a writer for an e-Learning course vendor near Chicago.

26 thoughts on “Crossing Saint Clair”

  1. I love this! It’s a great story in and of itself; the fact that it’s related to your family history make it all the better. Very, very cool. Thanks for joining the gargleblaster this week!

  2. “The margin between countries”
    That could mean a lot of things. I’ll probably think about that turn of phrase for awhile. Enjoyed it.

    1. Thanks Marcy! Trying to convey that she was doing what she could to help her family immigrate across the river, but I think it’s still too vague. I like the kernel of the story though, so I’m going to keep at it!

  3. I taught school one year in Canada, one of my students loved to tell me how he swam across a creek to the States at his grandparents all the time. At twelve the world is your oldster.

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