Unwashed Memories

The meadow looked green and lush the memory of old feet Passing this way Sometimes hurried, sometimes slow making soft imprints On the memory of time. The rocking chair Rocked back and forth The memory of gentle hands With needle work in hands Sometimes hurried, sometimes slow Making soft imprints On the hard floor below. The tender warm hug In time of pain and sadness The memory of everloving bosom With white lace all around Sometimes hurried, sometimes slow Making soft imprints On the life of a child. The dark black casket Covered with Jasmine and Roses The memory of that serene face Peace all around Sometimes hurried, sometimes slow Making soft imprints On this beautiful world. Dedicated to my maternal grandmother