Another Sort of Lullaby
Another Sort of Lullaby
by Laura Summerville Reed
Chiffon billowing like great puffs of celadon colored smoke
The curtains at my grandmother’s window
On mornings when my eyes didn't want to open
Giant breaths of soft and rhythmic gossamer
Breathing the whip-poor-will's call, and creek mud
And two skinned-up knees
Deep into a young girl
Like a lullaby
A soft and rhythmic din of metal to metal
From her kitchen
Another sort of lullaby
Utensils. Utility. Usefulness.
Only needed things there
The aroma of love and comfort; the salt of the earth
And all good things in the world wafting
Through the tiny house
To the cot where I lay
Sunlight shining down like mercy across crisp white sheets
And quilts stitched by hands now long stilled by yesterdays
LSR 2013©