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
Mufflers
Mittens,
Socks,
Hand-knit by angels
Or better
By retired bubbies
To keep us
Still playing outdoors
warm
On cold days

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