Hello, everyone! School (and work) is unfortunately in full swing right now, so I’m afraid today’s post will be a little on the short side.
So, I thought I’d leave you all with another work that I wrote for my graduate-level poetry class. This one is a little personal, loosely based on a question my mother once asked me about if I had any memories of my late grandmother.
Anyway, here it is!
“You Remember my Mother?”
I remember Grandmother’s slow smile, her wavy yellow hair—
The way her eyes crinkled at the corners, like yours.
But mostly I remember you—your face at the funeral.
The way it lit up when fifteen-year friends
Showed their respects—an isolated ring of happiness.
Your stricken expression when you discover
The wickedness of two others:
A sister, brushing back hair from the necklace she stole,
A belle-sœur, leaning in, sweet-talking the widower.
I think I’ve learned the lessons passed from your mother to you:
The value of hard work,
The warmth of fresh-baked pizzelles,
Drifting smells drawing lost souls in.