Lines on a photograph #1
She has a quiet pride in self
some great composure not unknown
of those with mind of great wealth
and under her eye I have grown.
With nineteenth century expressions
her mode of dress agèd as well
through her sight I gain inspiration
her thought to me chime still a bell.
I make no dirge no song of lament
I draw in words from long ago
and I smile at these Grandma has sent
''No no, my dear, do not take on so.''
Now, with the drying up of my pen
and the weakening of wrist
I am here where you were there when,
You rightly glanced back to those, you missed.