A Tuesday Poem and a Memory
We lived in Ecuador, South America for many years. There were no seasons to speak of, and I missed them dreadfully - probably autumn most of all. One year we returned to Canada while my husband studied for his master's degree. I was SO COLD! The damp found its way into my bones and stayed there. One day my grandmother showed up at my door with a gift - a small electric heater. I used it constantly that winter. It sat beside me when I sewed or read. When we returned to Ecuador, I left it packed up in our boxes wondering when I would ever use it again.
Seven years ago we returned to Canada and that same heater has been in use every autumn and winter. It sits beside me now, blowing its gentle warmth. My grandmother has been in heaven for a year and a half, but I think of her when I see my heater and I remember her love for me, her thoughtfulness and her prayers.
At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have
after a night of rain.
I dip my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold
into my body, waking the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing
that just happened?