DANCING WITH MY MOTHER
Mother and I twirl, laughing and dancing
in the streets of Carroll.
At times like this she says she can
really tell that I`m her daughter.
She recalls how her own mother warned,
"You must practise restraint; you so
easily go overboard!"
We laugh, realizing Grandma had a point,
but that it's okay to be alive.
Since Mother's husband died she
has been set free.
She is over her grief,
making up for lost time with
books, botanical arts, local causes.
Lugging wicker baskets up
the Smokey Mountaains,
she sips wine from crystal
and has loving friendships.
I am hopeful that I, too, will get
younger as I get older
and someday, on a city street,
will twirl and laugh
in the wind with a grandchild.
I will say, "I can tell you are from
my bloodline. Your great-granadmother
danced on the streets with me,
just like you."
Annie, 2003
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HEIRLOOM PSALM
Progressisons of dishes
marshal the generations,
each era's exemplar reflecting
the aspirations of its women--
good china
rough crockery
clay pots
hollow gourds--
all destined for use
in that most elemental
of human requirement.
She prepareth a table
before me
in the presence
of my daughters.
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