What does the Depression
mean to Me?
Just words on a page
in a history book.
Black and white
photographs,
of men I don’t know,
standing in lines
for bread.
The Wizard of Oz,
FDR, and a quiz
I didn’t really study for.

My dad says Grandma
is a child of the
Depression.
Born in a bygone age.
When we sit at the table
she remembers her
little home, and the
empty field it crouched in.

Across the way
was a palomino.
A golden horse strutting
in a golden pasture.
Equestrian majesty.
She remembers him too.

“I wanted that horse so badly.
Everyday I wished for that horse.
I prayed for that horse.
I learned that prayers
aren’t answered.”

Is that what the Depression
really means?