Cancer's Legacy

September rain falls on the house
In the failing light the old grandmother
Sits in the kitchen with the child
Besides the Little Marvel Stove
Reading the jokes from the Almanac
Laughing and talking to hide her tears

Seeing the smiling face through the tears
Brings back memories shared in the house
Memories as treasured as the old almanac
She’s remembering her first day as a grandmother
A baby in the basket by the Little Marvel Stove
She had never been so proud of her only child

Then came the accident which took her child
Leaving her with this little one and the tears
To raise alone by the Little Marvel Stove
She wonders on the day cancer entered the house
If when he is gone she will still be a grandmother
Questions unanswered by the old almanac

Time to put away lost hopes and the almanac
As she tucks in the dying boy, the child
Leans forward, tenderly hugging grandmother
His little hands reaching to brush the tears
Soon this will be just an empty house
With no one to warm the Little Marvel Stove.

Birth and death seen by the Little Marvel Stove
Like the seasons foretold by the almanac
And the years weathered by the house
Generations come to an end in this last child
The world mourns its loss with silent tears
Tears no match for those of the old grandmother

Dreams made before she was a grandmother
Dreams made when she bought the Little Marvel Stove
Dreams made without the endless tears
Dreams of each year predicted by the almanac
Dreams in which there were many a child
Playing in the rooms of the house

The only legacy of Grandmother will be for the child
A house for children’s research to dry the world’s tears
Jokes in the old almanac and the Little Marvel Stove.