Photo Prompt, Poetry, Theme Prompt, Writing Challenge, Writing Prompts

Moving On

Written for Tanka Tuesday where Robbie asks
us to write any form of poem to tell a story with
a beginning, a middle, and an end. Thanks to
Maureen for her from Thursday Door Challenge
photo. Here’s where the prompts took me.

© Maureen @ Oddments

The canvas has been lashed and tied,
the red barn locked, the doors pulled wide,
the wheels of oak and iron made
cast long and patient rings of shade.

She stood there in the morning cool,
a woman wise but sometimes fool,
who’d packed her whole life, bit by bit,
for a new world where she would fit.

The Conestoga held her days….
a quilt, a Bible, childhood stays,
a photograph of someone gone,
a reason still to carry on.

The trail ahead was gray and long,
the horses restless, hooves too strong,
the log shed watched with wizened eyes
as smoke dissolved in autumn skies.

She climbed the stair of weathered wood,
and touched the bow the way one would
who touches what they cannot name….
the wild that calls, the hearth that claims.

The leaves had just begun to turn,
the last of summer left to burn,
and somewhere past the line of trees
lay everything she dared to be.

The wagon rolled at half past nine,
beneath a blue and boundless line,
the red barn shrank, the log shed too,
until the green swallowed every view.

She did not look behind her long,
some griefs are kept by moving on,
and all the weight of what she’d known
became the road, became her own.

The canvas glowed like a lantern’s breath,
a small warm light between life and death,
and the wheels turned slow on the autumn ground….
She was finally westward bound.

NAR©2026

This is “Covered Wagon” by Miranda Lambert

Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.

43 thoughts on “Moving On”

    1. Colleen, I am bowing before you right now, as you were the first person to notice the Four by Eight (great name, by the way)! As often happens when writing these poems, you fall into a certain flow; after I’d written a couple of verses, I went back to take a look and realized each line had four syllables. Believe me, this was not intentional, but it definitely spurred me on to see if I could carry it through …. and I almost did. It was a double challenge and I enjoyed it so much. Thank you for having a keen eye and appreciating my efforts! 😌

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      1. I read it as eight syllables per each line, and four lines in a stanza, Nancy. I loved the flow of your words. Many of the well-known poets wrote with eight syllable lines. I think it gives a natural rhythm to your words. Well done!!

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    1. Thanks so much, sis. These pioneer people were so very brave; I love this part of America’s history and when I saw Maureen’s photo, I knew I had to write about it. I’m so pleased you enjoyed my poem. 💜

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  1. You have some remarkably beautiful lines in this: “who touches what they cannot name,” “some griefs are kept by moving on,” for instance. Deeply touching in their sense of the inexplicable. We just met a very real person. Lovely.

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    1. Maureen, thank you for this beautiful response to my story. It’s a great compliment to know my character has come to life for you. I felt a strong pull by your image and I knew I had to write about it. I’m delighted you enjoyed it so much.

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    1. Thanks for your lovely comments, Dan. I love this photo by Maureen! This is such a rich and colorful period in the history of our country; it was an honor for me to write a little tribute to the brave people who went in search of a new land and a new life. In case I haven’t said it before, I’m really enjoying this challenge! I just wish I had the time to contribute more often; something tells me I’ll be writing “door stories” long after the challenge is over!

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