Memories of Granny Spencer’s House


It’s no longer there.

Torn down, years ago.

Granny Spencer was my Mama’s Grandmama.

Mama loved her Grandmama.

She took care of Mama,

when she was a litte baby.

In the early ’40’s

Granny Spencer sold milk from house to house,

traveling with a  horse and buggy

and my Mama.

She took in sewing

from white and black folk,

not a common thing

in that small southern coastal town.

Those are things I knew later.

When I was little,

I remember a clay pot on a tree-shaded porch,

with a dead bat in it.

I remember being in the bathroom upstairs,

With a wonderful, large, rudimentary heating grate

through which I eavesdropped on adult conversations.

There was a nice front porch

with one of those old fashioned metal gliders.

Most of my memories of her house

are on that porch.

She was a strong lady.

Nursed a badly burnt  6 year old daughter,

expected to die,

back to health.

Lived through the loss of a daughter

to the common water town disease of typhoid.

She wore her hair in a bun,

but it reached past her bottom.

When she passed at 87,

there were hardly any gray hairs

on that demented head.

2 Responses to “Memories of Granny Spencer’s House”

  1. I love this, you have a way with words that pulls out people places and times good and bad I can feel and miss your words…

  2. Julie Says:

    Thank you so much. I am thrilled I discovered writing poetry. I can’t believe how much of my childhood I’ve remembered through writing poems, plus they are so cathartic. I love writing elegies. I used to think it was morbid, always writing about people who have passed, then I remembered how so many poems were elegies.

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