Months To Years Spring 2018 Months To Years Spring 2018 - Page 36

Three Headstones III. By Margaret Mary Shaw The gloss of the chalky granite I. And the weight of snow. Early this morning we hurried I pour the water To the flower shop And watch as Before the bus came. the cracks begin to darken Has softened from years of rain Then bleed down the stone The old woman working Beside their names, Recognized my mother, Around the years, Saying she remembers Then into the overgrown weeds My grandparents. At our feet. Her blue-veined hands Picked out the heaviest IV. Chrysanthemums. As we pick up the spades She looked to us and smiled, And kneel down to our knees, Sharing that they were strong The sparrows gather above us, And would look nice Fly up in dark spurts, Against the gray headstones. Then dip towards the fields She placed them in an empty Just past the gate. Plastic bottle and wished us All the best. Our hands fold In prayer for II. A moment, On the bus, the flowers Sway in my hands Then we find )1½Ν₯Ήœ„™•άΑ•Ρ…±ΜQ‘”Ι½½ΡΜ) •Ν₯‘”Ρ‘”Ι₯ΑΑ•Ω₯Ήε°Ν•…ΡΜΈΉΑΥ±°Έ)]”‘Ι₯Ω”‘½έΈΙ½…‘Μ)=˜Ρ½ΙΈΝ­₯Έ°)A½­΅…Ι­•5…Ιδ5…ɝ…ɕЁM‘…܁₯́„©ΥΉ₯½Θ…ЁQ‘”UΉ₯Ω•ΙΝ₯Ρ䁽˜)Ή‘₯͍½±½Ι•Έ]₯͍½ΉΝ₯Έ½˜…Τ΅ ±…₯Ι”°ΥΙΙ•ΉΡ±δΝΡΥ‘ε₯Ήœ Ι₯Ρ₯…°)MΡΥ‘₯•Μ₯Έ1₯Ρ•Ι…ΡΥΙ”°₯±΄°…Ή Υ±ΡΥΙ”ΈM‘”₯́„™₯ΙΝΠ)•Ή•Ι…Ρ₯½Έ΅•Ι₯…Έ…́‰½Ρ ‘•ΘΑ…Ι•ΉΡ́•΅₯Ι…Ρ•θ)‘•Θ™…Ρ‘•Θ™Ι½΄ …Ή…‘„…Ή‘•Θ΅½Ρ‘•Θ™Ι½΄U­Ι…₯Ή”Έ)M‘”±½Ω•Μ™…Ё…Ρ́…Ή‘…́„™•…ȁ½˜Α•Π™₯Ν Έ(ΜΨ+ €