Author’s Note: This is the second poem for the anniversary of my grandmother’s death. I decided to try to do it ninefold style without linking back to Ninefold Dragon’s blog.
The grass is brown over your coffin.
Many springs have gone, still no flowers.
Your green thumb is trapped with you down there.
Arid and dry, my heart aches for you.
Your wisdom no longer calms my brain.
Emptiness overwhelms solitude.
Sing me a lullaby to save me.
Faith so freely given continues.
Your love for me outlasts your body.