sacred to the memory of Mildred Naomi Eckart Graham
A very warm blanket embraces me Each stitch by hand with love each one by one A souvenir of death and destiny My Grandma crocheted until it was done A deep design of love drawn patiently
And even though she is gone I have this Living proof of her love a hug a kiss If sadly in the lonely cold of night Which though so dark still holds one point of light The way this blanket embraces me now
I wanted to go with her but could not Where saints in heaven no more sorrow see But left behind to muddle through somehow With no more to lose and cornered I fight Take everything but this no matter what
Leave me with this one scrap of self-respect Left here for me by one of the elect To enshroud my broken remains and be My last refuge in this bitter twilight Of ruin and loss and indignity
As strangers disrespect the memory Of someone who cared and still cares for me
In the Whirlwind is a poetic storm that frees history from the cages of corruption and puts it in the hands of everyday people. Words are weaved into a new fashion statement that has nothing to do with runways but everything to do with projects!
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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