Dead in Vineyard Sand
“It was not far from the home of Nancy Luce, the lonely, sickly “hen lady” poet whose body now lies in the West Tisbury graveyard, her stone and grave adorned with chicken statues placed there by her devotees. Nancy’s poetry and other writings, her love of her cows and chickens, and her long, eccentric life had made her locally famous before her death in 1890, and now, more than one hundred years later, many a Vineyard living room wall sports a reproduction of a famous photo of Nancy seated in a... chair, with her long, haunted face peering at the camera while her strong, gentle hands hold two of her beloved bantams.
It pleased me to think that not only Nancy, who had never traveled farther than Edgartown, was still remembered with affection, but that the same was true of her adored chickens—Beauty Linna, Bebbee Pinky, Tweedle Deedle, and the rest. What other chickens, aside from Chanticleer, have been immortalized by poetry? Maybe Nancy and Geoffrey were even now sitting together in some poet’s heaven, discussing rhyme and open verse.MoreLess
It pleased me to think that not only Nancy, who had never traveled farther than Edgartown, was still remembered with affection, but that the same was true of her adored chickens—Beauty Linna, Bebbee Pinky, Tweedle Deedle, and the rest. What other chickens, aside from Chanticleer, have been immortalized by poetry? Maybe Nancy and Geoffrey were even now sitting together in some poet’s heaven, discussing rhyme and open verse.MoreLess
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