Grace

Mama and Granny Herded children through the kitchen Out the screen door, to the yard Where we wouldn’t be underfoot Cousins all brown from summer Sun baking soft skin and erasing The loneliness of winter from Hillbilly faces – cotton topped Tresses white since birth, curled Mama and Granny Yelling loudly from the kitchen “it’s time to eat – come get it” Little bellies churned eagerly Fried chicken – a leg I chose Mashed taters and gravy Biscuits from soft, white dough Baked in a wood cookstove Mama and Granny Piled plates full of food For hungry eyes who dove in Before grace could be voiced After pie and cake and everything We could partake of – Sunday dinner Washed down with sweet tea And a bottle of love, homegrown Happy and hopeful - we had no fears Mama and Granny Murmured quietly, taking turns Rubbing plates and pots and pans With the Joy that was Granny’s detergent After dinner, we played – screaming With pleasure that comes from Sharing hearts and lives With the ones you call family The gifts from God’s loving nature