Beth Wangler | grandma

Losing Myself: Persona Poem

The best of days are days like these, when my grandchildren come to visit. I play catch with vivacious little Timmy, laugh with Isaac when he sticks the wooden spoon into the bowl of flower and milk and dust flies everywhere, and I sit and drink tea with solemn, sweet Abbie while she reads a …

The Clock

There’s a golden clock In a clear glass dome Above six figures in a circle On the fireplace mantle. . I remember Grandma when I was a young girl. She laughed and baked and gardened And sat in her chair and read. So the clock ticked a happy tune And the figures beneath it danced. …