Gardening

She is nearly beatified:
in the yard,
cutting grass,
with a sickle.

She is 88 years old.
A ripe age for
remembering.

And she tells me a story from kindergarten.
from the Great Depression.
She tells me the first time she ate graham crackers…
crumbled in milk.
She even remembers yesterday
and last week.

She is a ripe age for remembering.
She is walking the double infinity.
She is halfway to Heaven.