Nearly cried, realizing <br />I’ve almost forgotten her voice; <br />had to bring her back with my pen. <br /> <br />Grandma’s stout German frame <br />in her garden <br />legs bowed with knees refusing to bend. <br />Bent at the waist, rump in the air <br />picking cucumbers and ground-cherries. <br /> <br />Wearing a shapeless cotton dress <br />with tiny flowers and a cobbler’s apron <br />in contrasting prints. <br />All her dresses crafted <br />from the same Simplicity Pattern <br />in multiple prints and colors; <br />sewn on her black <br />Singer Sewing Machine. <br /> <br />Thin silver hair tidily tucked in a hairnet, <br />rough sturdy farm wife hands. <br /> <br />White cotton sheets <br />billowing on a southern zephyr, <br />fragrant of lilacs and cucumbers. <br />Belly jiggling laughter like Santa’s wife. <br /> <br />Hugs which nearly squeezed <br />my head off.<br /><br />Joyce Chelmo<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cotton-memories/
