MY GREAT, GREAT GRANDDAUGHTER
Someday my yellowed picture will look up
from a cardboard box full of old pictures,
And my great, great Granddaughter will ask
who that funny lady is. And her mother will answer
as mine once answered me,
“Why that was great, great grandmother so-and-so.”
Will she know that I was not always yellowed–
That once I was red and firm and grabbed and held–
Oh yes and threw away?
Will she know the dreams that I threw away
so that she could have her chance to grab?
If she could just read the book
that I meant to write
and see the painting that I have yet to paint,
she could know that I once stood tall and proud
with the golden light of sun upon my face. Diane Ross
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