I'm a long-time reader of your Downhome magazine, as is my whole family. Thank you for a consistently good read every month. I've enclosed a copy of my poem, "The Village," for your consideration. Not only is it representative of many Newfoundland outports today, but it's also a gift for my father, Boyd Eddy. You've published many of his poems in the past.

The old man goes out every morning
Around his village for a little walk
To see the beauty of his surroundings
And if there's someone with whom he can talk.

There's one house under construction
And another being torn down
There's usually fishermen down at the wharf
Still lots to talk about in this little town.

But the children are so few now
They are such a sight to see
When they are outside laughing and playing
He calls them a real commodity.

Some say the town is dying
With a lot of its people having moved away
The one general store has closed its doors
And some wonder why they bother to stay.

Yes, times have changed in this village
Most of its residents are getting old
But if you were to ask Boyd, the old man
He'd say it's his own pot of gold.

Inspired by, and written for, my father, Boyd Eddy

By Donna Eddy

Dec. 4, 2005   Submitted By: NULL