I miss her

She would have been 103 today

Wrinkled hands could shave a tater
or apple in one long, curly strip
    a skill born of necessity
    pure Appalachian art

Never idle hands could whip
up perfect, scrumptious biscuits to go
with homemade, mouth-watering apple butter
    a perpetual staple on the table

Strong calves could sit on hunkers
‘til the cows came home
    and then some
    like I’ve never known
haunches shaped by hard work
    incessant grind

A green thumb could grow gobs
Hazel eyes would glow like sunshine
when her folks came to visit
    kitchen table talk with a cup o’ joe
    instant decaf Sanka for her
always listening more than speaking

A picture of patience
having raised nine children
    and a spouse full of ‘shine
Endurance to the nines
Family was everything

A little woman with giant courage

A rock with a soft center

I miss her