They stand like towers Normally second or third tallest In a room it seems odd From my seat on the ground My little space My tiny square. They stand like towers round the edges Family and adults adopted into it Pulled from the corners of the country To this room. My mother sews quilts here A place of making, beautiful colors layered to patterns. Log cabin and flying geese fade into a hospice bed. Watching Daddy die they stand like towers round the edges Like our Viking ancestors gathered for the passing of a chieftain. Hard to leave life for those with much to be left As he passes we serve, A proud legacy, Spouse and siblings and we offspring. And we stand like towers.
Jennah Kelley is currently enrolled at BSU in the creative and professional writing program and will graduate with a BFA. She has lived in Minnesota all her life, and it will forever influence her writing, as will her family, friends, pets and all who have endeared themselves to her nerdiness.
Categories: Poetry
Tagged: Jennah Kelley,
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