Nine Years’ Sweet

He took the child’s

Hand in his huge mitt.

A year now since

Parents had crashed.

And Uncle Ray smiled

At the nine year old

Her dress quite

Uneven and smashed.

Her hair combed in

Curious manner.

Her nails needing cleaning

For sure.

And he had that job

At the sawmill.

With two fingers lost

To endure.

But this was a

Family compact.

And his love

Defying all words.

And she still as free

As a kitten.

And her songs

As sweet as the birds’.

The schooling her

Trial in the Village.

Her kitchen craft

Better than most.

A legacy cherished

From Mother.

For vittles or baking or roast.

Kind Uncle Ray smiled

Held her hand

For a while.

She looked like

Her Gramma the most.

She gave her big hug

At the back door.

A partner worth

Every boast.