~GRAND MOTHER~

Sprout queen
Arousing nourishment
With root water hands
Grand Mother
Frying fish in
River bottum pans
Dotting plates
With colors of your land
Burly men knocked elbows
To bow at your table
And you passed
Those offering plates
Never cushioned your bones
Till all jaws were full
Always made a little extra
In case they needed more
Mothers drove down
Balance beam roads
To watch colicky babies
Melt to molasses
Sweet in the sunshine
Of your pasture palms
And they grazed there
In the reflection of your calm
Wondered whether their arms
Would ever dance
The way that yours did
In the kitchen
And on the farm
Grand Mother
Your eyes once brightened
At the plump of baby cheeks
Now they blink
As midnight rivers
Whispering songs
As they roll your spirit on
Sleep, Angel, Sleep

by luna 0)))

WESTERN NORTH CAROLINA WOMAN
is a publication of INFINITE CIRCLES, INC.

PO BOX 1332 • MARS HILL NC 28754 • 828-689-2988

Web Design by HANDWOVEN WEBS
Celebrating the Spirit of Place in Western North Carolina