, or we don’t talk to the ones
who
know and survive
It is past time
to call you back again
The old ones are dead
Like water bright
in the eye
The brush of memory is too wide
And the surface is shimmered and wrong
Long afternoons listening
to the old woman about
her old women
The algae of remembering obscures
Again and again.
Jessan Dunn (DeCredico) Otis © 1985
Weeding With My Mother
I learned to weed a garden
squatting next to my mother
Once I began to learn what was wanted
and what was unwanted
The rest was easy
Bend down
Get my hands dirty
Smell the earth
Look carefully
Make clean spaces
Talk softly.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Dedicated with Love and Memory to Helen Constance Smith Dunn ~ 1912-1980 / Until we meet again.
© Jessan Dunn Otis, June 30, 2018
Jessan Dunn Otis|Writer 