Previously printed in Spindrift, Shoreline Community College Journal.
Grandma’s legs, skinny as green beans,
stand planted firm in chocolate brown earth.
She picks the last of the fall zucchini
to grate and squeeze dry.
Grandma’s hands, twisted as pumpkin vines,
mix wheat flour, eggs, cinnamon and cloves.
She bakes batter in loaf pans
in an oven hot as horseradish.
Grandma’s eyes, squinty as wrinkled kale,
adore grandchild’s milk-smeared face.
She slices sweet zucchini bread,
slathers on thick yellow butter.
Grandma’s love, as deep as burdock root,
nurtures tender feelings like tiny seeds.
She tucks in the sleeping garden
under a blanket of winter rye.
