Strokes
My mother is an oval brooch now. She
Is carved from colors like those pralines made
Of deep brown sugar and pecans. We see
Her head, the blonder layer in the shade
Of beeswax in the silhouette above
The darker ground behind her profile there.
She holds the shade of sunshine and of love
Carved lightly in the shape that shows her hair
And Georgia peach complexion, cheek and face.
The stony, shadowed background, is involved,
Though. Harsh, the Great Depression is the base.
Because of it her errors are absolved.
..In later life some graces she had known
….Were turned into a ruthless type of stone.