When my grandmother was young
And hadn't met the man she didn't like
But married anyway she lived in an orphanage
Though only half an orphan and worked
In a cigarette factory in Lvov. She now refuses
To appear in my dreams as I remember her --
Small and grey; smaller and greyer
Every time I saw her -- but only as she was
At fifteen -- quick, sharp-tongued, defiant --
And the one girl who understood the workings
Of the tempermental Bonsack Cigarette Roller
Which could roll 5000 cigarettes an hour
If made to feel loved and appreciated.
No comments:
Post a Comment