grandmother's bones

I dig deeper
and uncover grandmother's bones
that have been tossed inconsequentially
through coffee tables and beaten
fiercely with apparently little consequence
to our generation
(if buried bones could speak!)

This fierce red fire of a woman performed
grand humanitarian gestures
her mind sharp
enough to win a Stanford scholarship
the Great Depression robbed her of the dream
yet apparently not wise on the ways of womanhood
on the right not to have your bones bruised
and not on the disguised neglect of her twin progeny
who suffered silently, not for lack
of money and camp and poise school but for want
of attentive love

And how these ghosts haunt me
through the ages
they pass silently
relentlessly
desiring
not to be unearthed yet restless
in their graves too proud
to lie silently
ignored

I will excavate
this ancient poison
that casts demons upon my line
and throw it off the ends of the earth
and grandmother
your bones
won't be laid to rest
in vain
© 2000 Wendee Holtcamp