Sunday, May 11, 2014

remember cousins

artwork: ralph murre

remember cousins
by Barb Cranford

remember how they tumbled
suddenly into your backyard
where you were playing
with your best friend
older, boisterous boys
they smashed the sandcastle
scattered the buckets
and broke your hi-li paddle

after dinner they went away
with their parents
to wherever they came from

three who lived in Seattle
existed only as blurry faces
in the front row in snapshots
that arrived every year
 with your aunt’s Christmas card

one much-loved cousin, gone now
sent her poems to you
from a nursing home
you held onto her life line
as long as you could

some day when you are old
and living in the country
one you’ve never met
will drive into your yard
and walk slowly up the path
with sunlight behind him

amazed you will recognize
the image of your father
come clear across the country
to meet you

~ first appeared  in The Oak