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.


  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.

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


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