Wanderlust, a poem by Debra Elramey at Spillwords.com

Wanderlust

Wanderlust

written by: Debra Elramey

@elramey

 

Grandmother Mittie eased away in her sleep
one dreamful night, slipped on out as quick

as a fish evading the capture, escaping the
hook. By morning, Grandfather awakened

to sudden shock. There was nothing wrong
with the woman. It just happened as fast

as the rapture. I wonder where she spends
her timeless days. With those Sunday

morning Methodists whom she joined to
sing His praise? Or does she speak in

tongues with those wild ones and ride on
the wings of the snow-white dove as she

did on Sunday evenings? Do the Baptists
still wash her feet at the midweek meetings,

then sit with their ‘swords’ upon their laps?
Do the young Mormon men in white

shirts and black ties who came to her
door to proselytize and gather in another

soul at harvest time now steer their bikes
down streets of gold?

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