A Poem

An Elegy to Mrs. Richards

By T.R Frazier

I did not know you all that well,

You were my mother’s age.

In my mind I can not see

The shade of your hair or eyes,

But I loved you.

I loved your kindness

As you taught the jump and king

Of checkers on a summer porch.

But far beyond I love the love

You shared with my heartbroken

Mother.

You sang and soothed

From your celestial suite

Of the joy and majesty

That is to come.

You told my dreaming mother

All is well,

All is beautiful,

Everything is alright.

My mother wept,

Seeing heaven in eyes

I cannot remember, but love.

Just Some Poetic Prose/ Thoughts

Today I walked up those same two crumbling steps at Mr. Gray's like I always did as a child. But something was inextricably different as I rounded the uneven sidewalk towards the pool - my head brushed the leaves of the tree overhanging the walkway. I remember looking up at that tree as a child - the branches out of reach as I would jump. It's a small birch tree, but quite frankly I've never had the opportunity to swing on one. Maybe I've simply ignored. It wouldn't go unnoticed today though, and I can't decide how that moment of new rustling actually made me feel. All I know is that Time has perhaps never been so apparent. I just stood, recollecting - realizing that Mrs. Gray isn't there anymore to call down to her grand-kids, I'm two years from having a mystery profession, and for a moment I wished those branches were just a bit farther out of reach.