On a gray
foggy
summer day
blessed by persistent drizzle
we embarked down the
narrow and rutted
dirt road
finally coming to a halt
near a
withered
crabapple tree
alone it stood
like some aging sentinel
left to watch over another era
I followed
a trail
of wild berries
until I spied a tiny
cemetery
tucked into the woods
I roamed amongst the stones
finally stumbling upon
the memorial for my
grandmother
I envisioned
her simple cottage
under the apple tree
the children at her skirts
while she tended to her chores
He is out to sea again
the burden is all
hers
the fog
closed in around me
carried me back
I understood
her isolation
I wondered
did the rain on her roof
at night
comfort her or only
amplify
her loneliness?