\u201cResurrection Fern\u201d<\/p>\n
I settle back for some good finger-pickin\u2019 guitar,
\na gentle beat in the background. Is this
\nold-time steel pedal guitar Jim loved so much?
\nAlready I am slipping down a memory lane
\nI have neither visited nor recall.<\/p>\n
We will live like a ghost will live,<\/em> the voice croons and suddenly the lane is ours, the fallen down house Yes, our house, though not falling down, that captures me most, the feature of our yard through his patient pruning and the gifts of time. sarahw<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cResurrection Fern\u201d I settle back for some good finger-pickin\u2019 guitar, a gentle beat in the background. Is this old-time steel pedal guitar Jim loved so much? Already I am slipping down a memory lane I have neither visited nor recall. We will live like a…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1122,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-50654","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50654","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1122"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=50654"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50654\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":50672,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50654\/revisions\/50672"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=50654"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=50654"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=50654"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nin dulcet tones, the beat compelling,
\nthe words unclear; until I hear
\nthe fallen house across the way will keep
\n<\/em>everything \u2026 the baby\u2019s breath, our bravery\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n
\nthe one grandson Paul routinely mentions
\never since Jim and I took him, last summer,
\non a house tour of the tumbling-down old,
\nthe renovated and the obscenely huge modern.<\/p>\n
\nwill indeed keep the baby\u2019s breath \u2013
\nthose raised, those visiting, and if I am lucky
\nthat planted in the garden \u2013 to remind me
\nof our bravery. But it is the oak tree<\/p>\n
\nnow shading La Casita to house family
\nand friends come to celebrate Jim\u2019s life, his
\nforesight in claiming this land for the lives of us all,
\nand especially the resurrection of spirit and tree<\/p>\n
\nIf his ghost wants to live with me there, so be it.
\nI shall welcome the company, and with my own
\nstubborn green eyes that see everything,
\nre-magine us as a pair of underwater pearls.<\/p>\n