granny's garden revisited

gentle lady, mother of nine,

widowed too young -

no time to grieve;

times were hard,

life had to go on.

in your golden years,

when you could take some ease,

you planted the whole front yard

of the house on clemson street

with flowers -

an outpost of eden.

you were already white-haired

and worn

when i came along.

i loved the way you poured your coffee

into the saucer for me -

laced with sugar and lots of cream.

you would pat my hand,

and say:  come sit near granny

and i would snuggle up beside you,

my head, resting on your  bosom.

i did not know then

what i know now -

how age and the cares of this world

catch up with us in the end.

how i wish i could roll back time

and join you in your garden

once again....

-stacy wills (4/21/9012)

the borrower

in a tribute written for georgia o'keeffe's induction into the american academy of arts, it was said of her work that she...created original symbols for old experiences, sometimes too intimate for more direct revelation...

until the language of my own making

is found,

to speak of the tender wound,

i must borrow

words and symbols.

like a hermit crab

who outgrows one dwelling

and is forced to seek refuge

in yet another second hand shell,

i leave a mark behind

in those temporary homes -

a sign to the ones

who will follow,

that i lived there for a time.

-stacy wills (4/6/2011)