|
Post by scriptamanent on Jan 7, 2009 18:42:26 GMT -5
Few great moments had escaped From the variety of sweet boredom Under the pergola In midsummer after 8 o'clock In the evening nearly three decades ago.
I see now that my brother jumping On the folding bed outside in the yard, My hands smelling of watermelon Holding your wool ball, And you saying something unintelligible: "You're fish bait for the wasps." Was the greatest grandma.
(for my late grandmother Nikoletta)
|
|