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It was the first day of census, and all through the land;
A long winding ride down a road barely there;
She gave him some water ... as they sat at the table;
She held up a toddler with cheeks round and red;
He noted the sex, the color, the age...
The places of birth she "never forgot";
They spoke of employment, of schooling and such;
We can almost imagine his voice loud and clear;
Now picture a time warp ... its' now you and me;
We squint at the census and scroll down so slow;
Could they only imagine on that long ago day;
If they knew, would they wonder at the yearning we feel;
Contributed by Donna Randell
Page Revised: July 2002 (Don Tate)
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