A Bucket of Love
by Claire Scott
     for my grandchildren

Once upon a time ago she came
at the last light of day with a bucket
and a long wooden ladle, passing
out punch in paper cups to the kids
in the park before kids weren’t allowed
to take food from strangers before kids
had to be accompanied by parents at all times
before kids had to be home before dusk &
the old woman stirred & poured & said nothing
simply passed out Dixie cups filled with pink love.

Pin flowers in your hair, hang haloes
from the tops of apple trees, sing praises for
the old woman wearing a tattered cardigan,
a red wool cap & shoddy sneakers,
for sure an avatar of Kuan Yin or Tara
or the Virgin Mary, for sure sorely needed
in this worn & weary & wrinkled & wacked-out world.
Call to her, send a prayer & I know she will come
with her wooden ladle & bucket of love.
I saw her there that time ago, I swear.

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