Never a day goes by that
I don’t think of you,
your wide brimmed straw
hat, pinkish, well worn;
you, working in your garden
at sunup, hoe in hand, even as
you aged, your large corner yard,
your paradise,
your universe,
and I hoped you would never leave
us – beloved woman of the prairie,
grandmother of the land.
Copyright © 2010. Daisy Hickman. All rights reserved.