We carried you
to the small hole
in the hard ground
of the mountain

It was Winter

Thirty-six years
after pappaw
on the same day
you left us too  

It was Winter

Strong proud woman
of firm judgements
high opinions
and great beauty

It was Winter

Ninety three years
ivory hair
flashing dark eyes
lips that cut, smile

It was Winter

You could be hard
flint like at times
and wove stories
of the back when

It was Winter

It was fitting
we carried you
many women
for you to rest

It was Winter

We can be hard
flint like at times
weaving our tale
of the right now

It was Winter

And now we laugh
at your stubborn
we are quite fond
of cut lips, smiles

and of Winter