Summer Visit
I can close my eyes, and see
Her gentle, weathered face,
Hair pulled back into a wispy bun
Grey around the temples, crinkles around the eyes
A bibbed apron, fastened with two safety pins
To the top of her dress
That apron, which throughout the day
Served as a place to dry her hands
To hold a hot pan of oatmeal cookies straight out of the oven
A hammock to carry tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden
A cloth to wipe my tears after I had skinned my knees
For Grandma, dressing up meant taking off the apron
Putting a black felt hat on the top of her head
And wearing her worn grey tweed coat
Yes then...she would be ready for church,
Knowing the lyrics to all the hymns
Without cracking open the hymnal
Poking me gently with her elbow
If I failed to bow my head in reverence
While the preacher said the prayer
Sometimes, even today,....
I still feel a gentle twinge between my ribs
Or the soft worn cloth of her apron wipe away my tears
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009
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