After Ouma

I drove past her house once full of life…

I had to stop and get out…my heart was wrought with strife.

Now, it looks to be a place where only ghosts roam

A lingering gloom cast over a now desolate home.

Even a bright summer day couldn’t chase away the shadows

The bulldozer disrespects a ground considered hallow.

I could only stare as memories drew tears from the well of my past.

Knowledge speak to me clearly that nothing is really meant to last

but, this just doesn’t seem fair

A place where love once lived is condemned to disrepair.

I always appreciated the antiquity and it’s belongings

I would rummage through whatever I was allowed, but, I had two favorite things.

A music box and a Bradley Doll with vintage Victorian attire.

I’d wind the box and dance with the doll until the spinning made me tired.

My vision fades and I stare at what is barren, worn and torn.

There’s a huge hole in the wall, cracks on the porch, and the windows are boarded.

No trespass, just empty and void

Flashes of Ouma baking pies and cakes for the church next door

She used to make us feed the stray animals and sent us to take plates to the poor.

I remember taking baths in the big wash tub with the feet

Hanging from the tub, was a bag of used soap that she’d keep.

She bake them and make them new to reuse and repeat.

Like a late Autumn’s leaf,

I grieve for my tree…

My Oak has been chopped down

The leaves scattered in the streets.

The wind is blowing and I can’t find the ground, no land for my feet.

Tossed and tossed

riding the howl.

Awaiting my peace.

I dry my eyes

‘Cause Ouma would say, don’t waste time crying

Especially for her sake.

I just understand the loss

She cannot ever be replaced

A jewel of life

Only rarely created

I get in my car, My obedience still stands.

With Ouma in my heart

Her legacy in my hands.

 

 

Copyright © 2018 ubiquitous sense All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

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