Dorothy
April 16, 2017
Graceful
soul
well worn
with a single
strand
of
strand
of
names
Dorothy
Dorothy Pearl
Grandma Dorf
Dorf
But to me
you will always be
Gram
I remember
when we first met
that first thanksgiving
in the redwoods
by the sea
You came in
on a wave
soft spoken
stories
and sideways smiles
riding the heels
of one
your only one
you walked this world with
The holiday dinners
You waltzing
through the orange tiled kitchen
as you whipped white pepper wisdom
into white velvet smooth mash
- black pepper looks like there are bugs in it and we can’t have that.
Yet for all the potato perfection
you would still sneak a small sample of skin
- all golden and crispy
from the ample breast
for me to savor -
- our secret
That summer before pulling up
decades of roots in the beach town to head out
onto the open winabego road
with your only
We pulled down the day
all creeper and claw
from all eight slatted sides of your story
(There is always another side to things)
How you ran circles around me
as if your seventy or so circles around the sun
didn’t matter
You returned to the gatherings
passed the spatula torch
to your eldest,
who held fast your wisdoms, kindness and custom
who gathered your stories into a neat kindling bundle
knowing it would warm the heart hearth
in the winter of your absence
When I saw you last
to celebrate your final circle
around the sun
Your once sturdy and supple
frame crumpled
into a chair
(you never before sat for long)
to be wheeled to the table
the food without your finesse
yet we all eagerly devoured
every moment we could
every
watery blue gaze
and trembling smile
a precious feast
to be thankful for
You rest now
in the chapel of chimes
with your only
Your stories
the pearl
to be shared
Dorothy Pearl Elworthy
August 14 1927 - November 6, 2016
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