Libby’s Song

As autumn paints fire on leaves
and chill wind blows them, gently
to rest on still clear water
like minute ships
I watch them drift away
Thoughts turn to her
delicate and strong
fearless as leaves in November
As one more falls to join in
the procession whispers
giving me her blessing
as twenty-two tiny ships
silently make their way along

Strength defined her all her days
as she made plenty out of want
when no winds of autumn held gifts
embroiled in the fires
of war and barren
Yet her life came full circle
in the gift of words to me
numerous as fiery woodland leaves
and cloaked in mystery and wonder
So few are left in years of grief
the few that fall, they tremble
as tears cling to lashes
leaves cling to branches
until gentle wind persuades them

The song in the wind still holds it
the precious gift of her laughter
following the breathless hunt
of a tiny girl who runs
salt shaker clutched in eager hand
in pursuit of gloriously indifferent birds
They flit and twitter even now
among the leaves
remembering as I do
this gentle woman with the strength
to move fiery leaves to fall
so they might seek to find
the bright singing dreams
her laughter stirred
deep in the heart of all who heard

~ ~ ~

© W.R.R. 11/22/2012
For Elizabeth, Libby; grandmother of the sister of my heart, upon the day that marked her birth. I didn’t know her, but I understand that pain. Peace to all who grieve for beloved ones lost.