How I Remember Her
Cecila MacGillis 1900-1992


Sometimes
those days are
ropes-
that pull me
through bad days-
smurf blue sky
puffy cumulus cloud
shaped like Babar
hanging proudly-
evergreens fresher than a tin of Altoids
taller than the hopes
of my parents-
and white light
everywhere
streaming
through everything tangible-
I’m barefoot
and running to
grandma-
between endless rows of
raspberry bushes-
gray green eyes
silver pincurled hair
blue jeans and garden gloves-
a smile resting
on her sweet and furrowed face
metal colander at her narrow waist
picking those divine ripe berries
for pies-

One day I was going
to build a castle
with marble, flags, and gold
right there in the raspberry patch
for me and grandma-
and during our tea party
we’d draw pictures with Crayolas
feasting on raspberry pie
and laughing!

by: Marie Fleur