As I stare at the decades old photograph
into the eyes of my Grandmother I can not
help but to think of the life she once lived
in a time when luxury was having food on the
table with a little extra in the icebox and
just enough wood to keep the family warm
for the cold winter evenings in
rural New Hampshire circa 1920.
I see happiness, confidence and yes,
just a touch of the family stubbornness.
I also see concern, fear and a somewhat
unattached look in her eyes for she
knew from her own childhood the
feeling of hunger and pain.
Her dream was to make it easier for
her children and grandchildren so that
they could live the American dream of
owning a house and driving a car.
Her plan was simple and basic,
but she lived her life with a focus
that only someone in a third world
country could relate to.
This photograph speaks volumes to
me and I often stare at it when I feel the need.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful poem, James. Very touching