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always standing
strong:
a great redwood tree,
never (ever)
bending
to the wind
yet somehow tiny, she
is. hunched over,
reaching out to
suffocate you in
many hugs, not seeing
you in like
a thousand summers
and a fall
she is a winter,
compared to you.
her face cracks,
wrinkles, overlaying like continents
so golden and wise
with smiles
folds creased around
dark eyes
armed with moth-eaten
clothes,
jasmine perfume
clouding your air supply
(from the Chinese
grocery store down the street)
she laughs like a
rainfall.
and a fall.
and then she falls!
funny how this brave
woman, this great
tree has fallen! kept
cold in a smooth
casket, raven's touch
on someone who
was so warm.
all soon to be
forgotten
in dirt
and in words,
adorned in prayers
that
echo in the chapel
walls.
making you wonder,
in child's eyes
(why her and not
you?)
by J.C.
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