Debbie Guzzi Poet Free verse

The Widows Peek (In Memory of Dora Rosen)

Strands of silver, tinsel fine,
Thin, flyaway,
Winged, widow’s peak
Widows’ weep
Bubba, Grandma, alone.

Up the dark tenement stairs
Cross tiny, tile squared floors
To the always open door…
Bubba, Grandma.

Aged, ageless, wiry, warm,
Open arms welcomed long tooth-grin
Gretel’s Grandma welcomes in.
Bubba, Ma.

Steel- spined, crow-eyed, soft skinned,
Gathered in, captured,
With the chicken bone.
The scent of ancient tomes,
Mothballed down comforters,

Brisket, kugel-noodle soup,
The feasts of Kings,
David and Solomon
Bubba, Grandma, Home?

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Sara Lokken December 29, 2008 at 6:45 PM A sweet dedication to your grandmother, your style is unusual....you remind me of Eastern writers I've read....me, I have sort of developed a style between the East and West, being from both worlds, lol.:) Love, Sara

Carrie Richards December 29, 2008 at 6:02 PM What a wonderful, colorful description of your grandmother. Can almost smell the brisket, and soup simmering. Lovely memory!~ , Carrie

Barbara Gorelick December 29, 2008 at 4:52 PM This is wonderful..such memories....I never knew my grandmother..makes me with I had that kind of memory. BG