A Grandmother's Wisdom

by Julie Palmer Terrazas
(Massillon, Ohio, USA)

White cloth clouds carried shade,
but she didn't care.
a cheek of many miles
stopped, in the blank road of hand.
Straw hat firmly set,
cover to the mind
that kept rattling on.

I'll tell you this,
if you promise to listen.

Slipped her eyes shut,
still hearing the flower garden
all the tucking of collars of petals
as many churches
were planted in one soil.

The tin painted sun, hid
intensifying, fruits
in the sweaters of their peels
and
dry grass biting my feet.

"You'll know."
"When?"
"When you know."