In Remembrance of Her...for yesterday's nectar
tastes sweet like the honeys**le's on her vines,
Almost like the figs beyond the old house-
My Grandmother's garden left cherry tomatoes
and potatoes and squash near the field
of ripened watermelons waiting to be touched
by my lips.
And her blackberry pies and homemade recipes
would soothe my stomach and warm my heart.
I sat...rocking on the porch,
smiling and spitting out those seeds on her Saint Augustine Green,
while she sat singing and shelling peas.
But...now I cry Beautiful Memories
watching them grow and grow,
though she Rests in Peace.
I sit and shell our most sweetest memorable moments.