It took me a bit to click together why my departed granny is on the brain lately. I always think of her most in August. Not only because this is the month she passed, but, also, the month we were always winding up a visit with her. Lots of nights were spent savoring summer on her front porch…
Past whistles down the dirt road tonight,
Sidles right up to my slab of porchlight…
And I hear your country girl drawl,
Drawing out an old tale of gladder days,
Winstons flickering the deepening
Somewhere in the distance,
Tinkle of ice in the red tea glass,
Crickets call to one another of
Love so true.
Amazing grace how sweet the sound
Weaves itself into the wandering air,
A cool and soothing caress all around,
Brushing away these endless cares.
And I find I miss you so much
At the same exact moment
I find you still nearby,
Like almost we could touch.
For, though, I no longer see your face,
I carry you from years gone by
To this very time and place.
Memories swelling, aching
In such bittersweet fashion, but it’s okay.
Mourning’s less keen than before.
It’s more like the serene limbo ‘tween
Sleep and waking
A dream moving so slow and so fast
All at once
‘Tween where we go and where
All we were,
And all that’s still in the making…