Safe Harbors

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SAFE HARBORS
by Marilyn Yocum

ONE
came to visit,
stayed for years,
understood Mom
more than Mom did.
When storm flags flew,
she shuffled to her room,
waved us little girls in,
blew smoke rings
and spoke of vaudeville
to cover the sounds of thunder
just the other side of the door.

THE OTHER
an hour’s drive away,
still in the house
where she’d seen my father
off to war
and back again
with a bride
wearing a fox fur stole,
the likes of which
had never been seen
in those parts.
I spent a week each summer
dry-docked there
in the rays of her sunshine.
She burnt me scrambled eggs
I’ve spent a life trying to duplicate,
no luck.
When I asked how she knew
about the straight As, she said,
“A little squirrel told me.”
I spent years pondering the possibility,
wondering which squirrel it was,
knowing the joy of feeling watched over.

These two
parchment-skinned
slow movers
set the rudder of my life.

NOTES
Poem: Written last October for the Tweetspeak workshop I was in.

Image: There they are, my two grandmothers, front row in my parents’ wedding picture.

About Marilyn

Reading, thinking, listening, writing and talking about faith, creativity, ESL for refugees, grief and finding the story in a story. Student of Spanish. Foe of procrastination. Cheez-it fan. People person with hermit tendencies or vice-versa. Thank you so much for reading.
This entry was posted in missing relatives, most excellent gifts, poems, safe harbors. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Safe Harbors

  1. pastordt says:

    Oh, I love this. LOVE IT. I had a couple of great grandmothers, too. No smoke rings from either of mine – and no scrambled eggs, of note, either — but those hats? Yeah! And those big hearts and that sense of being watched over — yeah, to that, too.

    Like

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