Friday, June 27, 2008

My Grandmother's Ghost by James Wright





She skimmed the yellow water like a moth,
Trailing her feet across the shallow stream;
She saw the berries, paused and sampled them
Where a slight spider cleaned his narrow tooth.
Light in the air, she fluttered up the path,
So delicate to shun the leaves and damp,
Like some young wife, holding a slender lamp
To find her stray child, or the moon, or both.
Even before she reached the empty house,
She beat her wings ever so lightly, rose,
Followed a bee where apples blew like snow;
And then, forgetting what she wanted there,
Too full of blossom and green light to care,
She hurried to the ground, and slipped below.

2 comments:

  1. James Wright's poetry is so poignant. I don't believe I'd ever read this particular one. Thank you for posting it and for pairing it with the delicate images. Perfect.

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  2. You always have the best poetry on your blog! This is a beauty.

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)