I come from a family of poets. I was thinking of this today. My friend Janet had mentioned Mattie Stepanek, a 13 year old poet, who died of muscular dystophy in June. She also mentioned that she still has a copy of the book, Castle Mount, that was published of my brother Matt's poems after his death at age 17.

However, my Dad was also a poet. I know I have put at least one of his in here and also my brother Jeff does at least one a year while out deer hunting.

The most prolific is George though. He put together a book for the family that he called Old Red House in which he gathered poems and witty quotations and poems of his own for each of us and his wife Betsy, his children and himself. I will add the poem he wrote about me for you to enjoy. We seldom know what influence or impressions we make on little people. George was probably six or seven when I went FAR away to California.

FEELING BIG

by George Deeley (My Brother)

A modern Marco Polo
Off to far away
Missing me the most of all
She told me so on leaving

West Coast adventures outlined
In a score of timely letters
Written just for me, of course
I saw my name within 'em

Gifts and food of foreign lands
High on the reunion
Speechless through the whole affair
Absorbing the attention

Even there to tuck me in
This person of the world
To spend the time on meager me
I must be so important!



Love

Mary