grandma poem

be patient, life, when love is at the gate
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
dark-eyed
when the wind works against us in the dark
look out upon the stars, my love
when i go back to earth
i know not where
there are three ways in which men take
i gazed upon the glorious sky
when the hours of day are numbered
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
once this soft turf
by the rude bridge
the body may confine