The MacKensies — 1957
Old Grandma Thornton lived
in a house of bare red brick
and light made pale curtains.
Her husband lay in a high bed
in disease, silence, surrounded--
dying by the cool dark light
of the pale cream curtains.
She cared for him
and watched and waited
and he died.
Engulfed in the high bed.
Vanished in the dust laden light.
Now part of the slight shudders
that rustle through
the pale cream curtains
shrouding the tall white windows
in the house of rust red bare brick.
I never entered the house again.
Grandma became gone.
He had died.
The house was silent--
a tomb for moon lit summer night.
East Lansing
January, 1987
Greenfield Series
©1987 The MacKensies — 1957 — Joseph W. Yarbrough
Reproduction prohibited without written permission
in a house of bare red brick
and light made pale curtains.
Her husband lay in a high bed
in disease, silence, surrounded--
dying by the cool dark light
of the pale cream curtains.
She cared for him
and watched and waited
and he died.
Engulfed in the high bed.
Vanished in the dust laden light.
Now part of the slight shudders
that rustle through
the pale cream curtains
shrouding the tall white windows
in the house of rust red bare brick.
I never entered the house again.
Grandma became gone.
He had died.
The house was silent--
a tomb for moon lit summer night.
East Lansing
January, 1987
Greenfield Series
©1987 The MacKensies — 1957 — Joseph W. Yarbrough
Reproduction prohibited without written permission