Sonnet for Grandmothers
by Melanie Claire Blinn Eulberg
It seems a shame our grandmothers must leave
Before we realize their precious worth.
How slow we grow the wisdom to perceive
Their consequential place upon the earth.
In childhood, we find soothing in their eyes
And feel the strength of love in each embrace.
We may forever hum their lullabies,
But of their essence, grasp the merest trace.
Our grandmas hold our hands and history:
Connection to the lives that came before.
Too often we’ve dismissed the mystery
Unraveled by the sharing of their lore.
But now, from vantage point of middle-age,
We sorrow at the tearing of the page.