Crystal

For my mother
born in Martindale, Texas, 1917
In all her seventy-five years, she never grew old.

The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.

The golden brooch my mother wore
She left behind for me to wear;
I have no thing I treasure more:
Yet, it is something I could spare.

Oh, if instead she’d left to me
The thing she took into the grave!-
That courage like a rock, which she
Has no more need of, and I have.

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

7 thoughts on “Crystal”

I love old photographs. This one is precious! It’s usually just a posed sitting… playing with blocks is really special. 🙂

Beautiful photo.

Precious photo.

just beautiful

Your mother looks so happy and absorbed in her blocks. The Buster Brown haircut is charming.

It is your last stanza which teams with that photograph to create longing. That courage mothers have.

one of my very favorite people ! Miss hewr to this day.

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7 thoughts on “Crystal”