Another Look

She is there in all seasons.

In Winter
Dad's felt boots promise warmth-
how deceiving! Her toes are stiff
with cold. But this hill glistens
all snowy white and golden with sun,
someone needs to see what is it like
on the other side? Is it time for
Snowdrops yet?
Back inside ice balls melting on
woolen tights, her cheeks red
and the wood stove leaking warmth
with crackles- little puppy
in Grandmother's hands
finally settled, ceased shivering-
comforted.
Onions and garlic keeping
in silk stockings...

In the Spring
she washes the chipped paint
off the old window frames
waiting for the boy with no name
who will bring spring forest flowers
for her vase.
She will choose him
with the biggest bunch of the white ones...

In Summer
Oh, the Summer!
The pig fodder needs to be chopped
and all that weeding!
She plants snowpeas- the aromatic type-
but the soil is all sand and
she will wait unfulfilled.
Boys and girls will come with their stereos,
taking her to the lake
over the hill
where she learned to swim.
There is a flow to each day in the Summer-
heavy pail of water from the well,
muddy feet, sauna smoke,
night fires with potatoes baked
black in the coal-
foil wasnt invented then...
In the Summer her heart is most alive,
every breath in is joy,
every breath out is hope
and the world is still very new.

In Autumn
she presses leaves- all colours
there are reds and scarlets, plenty
of yellow ones and orange.
The grain needs turning- it is hot
on her feet, earth itself in her nostrils.
On the way from school
she lets rain soak the dress and the books,
making shelter from sheets
warming and comforting her own self.
Sweet apples flavour her day,
nails black and sore back
from the potatoe harvest.
In Autumn it is time to go home.


So what of today?
I look today
and she is still there in all seasons.
She breathes and her breath in
is still joy
Her breath out is still hope.
I look today
and she says
"the world is still so very new
and the garden- bigger. Much bigger..."