By Jo Scotford Rice
It seemed we were all children of that house
and it was a place to go home.
It held the sacred attic
full of our ancestral past.
The beds were birthplaces,
womb-homes to crawl back into,
where tears and love remembered
the dreams of many sleeps.
The kitchen opened to the world
the healing lights of love.
No one takes her place
when she is gone,
but I can sing when I remember
white sheets in the wind
against the blue sky
on the wash days of many springs.
Jo Scotford Rice moved to Martha’s Vineyard with her family during the winter of 1965. A loyal contributor to Poets Corner, she died in December of 2013.
