Ann

Ann
 
It has been snowing for a half hour while still dark
I shined a flashlight out the window and it was falling
in a slant the scant leaves told no wind so I ruled
out rain, and not hail nor sleet either at the end
of October after a day of soaking rain to bring the wells
up and now it is light and despite my lamp’s reflection
in the window I can see the flakes falling between
our houses filling the space to the trees backed
by the fence the second raking not yet done
leaves sodden give up pressed to the ground
their colors traded for browns including the cherry’s
and now the storm is thickening and the trees
beyond the fence are blurred cedar, pine and spruce
with respect to their distances and the bush
that still retains its leaves is being coated
on which the birds perch now flocking to the feeders
and the leaves are bedding down the snow
that the gravel driveway still melts so it has made
one friend again but who can replace Ann who
died this week in her son’s arms my Quaker
friend for years we drove each other and talked
along the way set up for the pot lucked movies
I took her to the classical concerts in Kinderhook
she’d buy me lunch in the café down from the church
Mozart Beethoven Hummel Handel Bach and Haydn
where Vicky’s husband conducted the orchestra
and Sandy, Vicky and Noah sang in the chorus
she had a piano in her house and played a wind
instrument and bridge we worked on book sales
fundraisers for our meetinghouse she lifting
boxes my back could not and sorting them into
categories other Quakers would dispute, the same
book moving among disciplines over several days
she’d give me pens after I started writing poems
in meeting for worship and a sweater she’d knitted
one night in the dark and snow she fell on the stone
steps huge slate they’d lifted all together on her hands
and knees somehow still holding her dish it had snowed
then too and it was slippery and dangerous just the two
of us always arriving early she was quite prompt
we worked the jazz concerts together she at the door
collecting money and presold tickets which had got printed
she made many arrangements for our county fair
exhibit of the solitary confinement cell replica two
years running and sat with me to explain to passersby
why the hearts of men and women deadened in that hole
she had a fine sense of humor and the prettiest face
with a warm smile her daughter and granddaughter shared
attended national Quaker conferences and would speak
of a gathered meeting always brought the bagels
helped families in need without asking questions
she was kind and a good listener with great stories
taught me words to long for me to have remember
we talked of flowers and bushes that bloom in spring
she loved to read both heavy and light and she’d give
me Jack Reacher novels we would sit in the car before
taking her home and she’d look out into the field behind
the meeting house the wheels of hay rolled up
on the almost drumlin trees behind fine in any
season and exclaim the beauty of the view
now the snow is weighing down my yew
roofs have whitened and I’m frightened all alone
my throat constricted I wished I’d called her more
but many times we talked just on the phone
the rain in my eyes I wish would change to snow
so I could blink and see where I’m to go

Bob Elmendorf