Reposted after 5 years --- I forgot where this site was. Anyway, here is my Poem "Homebound" once again, I first posted it in my profile or something so it never made it a thread.
Homebound
Aunt Leona said “When that Spanish moss sway
in the dead-calm air like that it mean the Lord
callin’ someone home”. She rose from her
porch rocker and went to the kitchen.
I stayed on the porch with Gran-ma, held her hand,
watched for the moss to move. Tall weeds
tapped against the nailed-shut bedroom window,
so greasy with age, weather stained and cobwebbed.
“Thistles! Thistles!” Gran-ma’s raspy words were
whispers at first, then filled the dead-calm
of my own thoughts. Her mouth trembled
for more words to say; her watery eyes,
still clear and starlit, gazed across the years.
She drifted back just then, to the tilled rows of new fields
where her girl-self flew kites. No cobwebs out there.
She smiled and let out more twine.



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