Burying Grandma On A Very Cold Morning

Poem By Lewis Eron

You're right
It's cold
So I'm wearing a coat
And a hat,
Two sweaters, long johns
Insulated socks, boots, a scarf,
the mittens you knit me;
And I have a thermos of tea
With sugar and lemon
in the car
If I get cold

Don't worry
Sometimes I still remember
To wear a sweater
Because you were cold.

Today, even our meditations are frostbitten
There's snow on your dirt
And your coffin,
(We call it a casket now)
Cracked the ice on the bottom of the grave
With a kvetch and a wheeze and an oy
Your prayers on rising each morning

Don't worry
There's central heating in heaven
And an endless supply of sweaters
Hand-knit by angels
Or better
By retired bubbies
To keep us
Still playing outdoors
On cold days

Comments about Burying Grandma On A Very Cold Morning

There is no comment submitted by members.

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of ERON

Lighting A Memorial Candle For One Of The Six Million

Even if I could light six million lights
I could not rekindle your light
And your’s was only one
Not one in a million

Ascending Mount Sinai August 1975 Remembered

Dear God
Since we cannot abide your light
Give us a good set of sunglasses
Or better, better night vision

We Are Made Of Forgotten Stars

We are Made of Forgotten Stars

We are made of forgotten stars
The light of the beginning

Peace Is Our Goal - Memorial Day Meditation

Your dream was to be with us
Yet you gave your life for us
So please forgive us
If we sometimes forget

A Box Of Chanukah Lights

Despite the math
Forty four candles are never enough
To last the entire eight nights of Chanukah.
At least one is broken or lacks a wick

When I Die, Will The Emails Stop?

When I die, will the emails stop?
And the text messages,
and the letters,
and the bills,