She was shelling peas,
apron-covered knees
spread wide to catch
each pea/each podI, shaky, needy
wandered nearHer ancient swollen hands
pushed back the hair
that hid my faceShe set down the pan
and, patting her knee,
said:oh, child,
come on up here
and let me have a look at you.Her voice was safe and so was I
sitting in the lap of God.
Source: Daughters of Sarah magazine
Dedicated to my sweet and regal mom, Sandy Sylvester Comer, who died 5 years ago today. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her. May she rest in Peace.