Thursday, May 17, 2012

Bless them. Bless the birds.

Dear Mary, 

Your poems first were read to me at my birth.
I remember hearing about cherry trees.
Later I found your books on my teacher's shelf.
Grandmother gave me the prize winning one.

Bless them. Bless the birds.
Bless the bees.
Bless the cherry trees.
Bless the bears too. And all my mothers.

Bless the peaches on Orchard Hill.
Bless the roses, we have an Abraham Darby.
Bless the firs and the oaks.
May they root well and bear fruit.

You live on, dear Mary.
In the sea, which has your name.
And in our daughters. 
Who are all poets.

Joanna Brook

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