Beginning Again
All this hair, curly and strong
Wiping around the cheeks surrounding the eyes
swiping it from where they cut and stapled
Growing in storms dark brown and white as
a Winter snow who am I who will I be
A old woman reading a book while waiting for the last winter
my natural family is gone, one destroyed himself after a war
MY husbands nieces and nephews not one will morn
Some are counting the days till we die, there is always one
Others busy with life’s gifts— daughters and sons
Computer gigs alI, raised in a language that has become
foreign and strange now I read of strangers
in cold days where lamps and wood and oil
kept us warm enough to survive. And I was seen
As a witch, gathering herbs with a cane, watching tv
not computers, reading book not Kindles last night
And I wonder will we all be back in tim again
When we haul water in jugs and are
depending on helpers who resent us as we limp about
and doctors are for the rich and the earth is aging for
the rest when the time comes us are placed i
n boxes or our ashes in the cold dark waters
One listening to our small sweet song birds
chirping for seeds and the caukes of hungry crows
lights out and it is cool and gray with water droplets
in the trees and grasses. the wetness a gift.
Pray that March brings us more.
I am getting older and so is the sun
We have scientists now but it seems they
only mourn the stupidity of our kind
Pray and meditate that I am alive enough
to breathe the air feed the dogs and birds
And read a good book about the good life
which may yet return
I fear that man is on a path to destruction and
that nuclear world has been waken by a Russian
mad man. Be strong young ones, be strong
You may have to start again.
Copyright © Linda Milgate | Year Posted 2022
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