My Grandmother's Ghost by James Wright

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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.

Comments

  1. SanJune 27, 2008 at 8:13 PM

    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.

    ReplyDelete
  2. AnonymousJune 28, 2008 at 10:44 AM

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

    ReplyDelete

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