Continuum (a vilanelle for a lost one)
My grandmother, Mildred Rose, was a poet; when I was a child she published a book of poetry. Here is one of the poems: I miss you when roots waken to spring rain and more when summer penetrates the land though friends still tell me time will ease my pain. When grave earth flares to lively green again and star-eyed lovers walk, quick hand in hand, I miss you when roots waken to spring rain. As...