Crow’s feet, high crown,
White hair, brown eyes,
Thick rimmed glasses,
Swinging flashlight,
Old blue white chappals,
An old dhoti, a white towel and
A white undershirt.
Lunch and supper,
Rice with sambhar,
A loving smile.
Hurried speech—
Stumbling at words,
No driving after dark.
Weekend retreats,
A lone house and a swimming pool.
Three grandkids and then one more,
An old white car and then one gold.
Wooden sculptures,
Weekly magazines,
Potted plants, and
Farmland crops.
My grief is white,
It is summer,
It is a swimming pool,
It is a packet of baked goods.
In the loving memory of someone I lost but couldn’t grieve as much as I wanted to.
Raven On The Willow 