Tuesday, March 10, 2009

i come to the garden

gentle lady, mother of nine
widowed too young
no time to grieve, life had to go on
times were hard
in later years,
when you could take some ease
you planted the whole front yard
on clemson street with flowers
a little outpost of eden
you were already white-haired
and worn
when i came to know you
i loved the way you poured 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 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 the garden
once again


Lina said...

Beautiful. .such an overused word. .but there is no other word for this post. Have I told you lately that your blog is one of my very favorites???

Elysa said...

As Lina said, "beautiful"! Was this about one of your grandmothers or a great-grandmother?