Shirley Jean

Fifty-two years of marriage had on Elms Road         A willow tree and a gravel, dirt driveway     A black furred, brown footed dachshund named Blackie     Picnics in the backyard     Flea market front yard sales     Coffee at four in the morn,         what a child’s getaway—     Crayon dinosaur wallpaper     Baked beans from Great Grandma’s newspaper clipping     Frozen hotdogs served fresh     Anxious gifts given even without money

Car rides, iced tea, and Elvis’s songs The Blueberry Festival and more yard sales Fears of meat besides poultry, pork, and beef Her purpose motherhood, her strength family Drummond Island’s rocky shores,     sandboxes and sand bees,     no electricity, no running water,     ice cream at the teepee, nighttime fires,     a sinking pontoon Niagara Falls and a hand-holding competition

It was a Saturday     The Gospel message heard         the family summoned to her         hospital bed baptism     A swollen, rough skinned hand,     me, prodded to touch,         she allowed to rub her sore spot?     She scooted near, her eyes quivered—         full of fear It was a Sunday     My wife feeding you pudding     Reading Scripture by her bedside     Goodbye kiss on a bald head

It was a Saturday.