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To My Grandmother


Past beauty on a withering stem
With hands like wilting petals
Folded in languid repose.


Today, vivacity and mischief
Are memories in your dimming eyes
Challenging the future.
Throughout those years to come,
I shall seek often
In the pregnant meadows of my soul
For renewed courage and unerring zeal,
The seedlings of your example.

Written by Alvira Hazzard (1899-1953)

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