Maury Yeston Follow

My Grandmothers love letter

I went up to my attic,
To put away your letters,
In a gray little box with two broken locks,
Next to an old bird cage.
When I went to put your letters inside,
I found another package,
Covered with dust and smelling of must.
It came from another age.

My Grandmothers love letters,
Held in her trembling hands, when she was seventeen.
They were a world to here, they were her youth,
They made here whisper low,
Seventy seven years ago.

My Grandmothers love letters,
So firmly in her grasp,
She’d read one line and gasp,
The means she breathed the air of long ago.
I loved her so.

Some things you’ll never know,
What makes the tied come in and a little flower grow.
How father time decides when he’ll come for one of use.

Some things you never know,
What makes the eagle fly and the southern wind blow.
These things they come they go,
Like portents, omens, dreams,
You never know.

My Grandmothers love letters,
When she was seventeen,
Think what they had to mean.
They were a world to her, they were here youth,
She tied them with a bow,
Seventy seven years ago.

My Grandmothers love letters,
So firmly in her grasp,
She’d read one line and gasp,
And Im the air she breathed so long ago,
I miss here so.

Some things you’ll never know,
What makes the tied come in and a little flower grow.
How father time decides when he’ll come for one of use.

Some things you never know,
What makes the eagle fly and the southern wind blow.
These things they come they go,
Like portents, omens, dreams,
You never know.

Seventy seven years ago…