Thursday, November 08, 2007

My Maternal Grandmother

She embodied contentment.

Day 8: I am grateful for my grandmother.

Grandmother's House

The old house, emptied
of Grandmother's presence,
sinks slowly into a spirit

of disrepair,
welcoming comfort
from the scurry of field mice
and the coo of doves,

whose eerie song spooks
nerves of the living,
who are alone
in this darkened house,


Searching for essence
of Grandmother. With tender
longing, we breathe her scent
on dresses left hanging,
shoes left below.

Waiting for her return,
for her to slip into them
and walk away,

longing to be useful
once more.

In the kitchen, pots and pans
also wait, barren,
wanting biscuits to rise and swell
again like pregnant tummies full
of hope, affirming life.

Only stillborn memories survive
as the old house

slips quietly into disrepair.


  1. Love the artwork today. It's spot on!

  2. Umm, Ummm, good. I don't have the good memories of the grandmother, but the house, I like writing about.

  3. Thanks Mindy She was a very sturdy woman. I think I get that from her.

    Glad you like it Jules. Both these photos are so small that it is difficult to do anything "artsy" with them. I'd still like to do something different with them, maybe collage them on canvas with other stuff as a memory collage.

    Cyndi We were there scrounging around for small sentimental things we might have missed. She was in a nursing home before she died and the electricity had been cut off. The old house was in bad shape.

  4. I love this one the best. LOVE it. Awesome.


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