Mary Frederick Ahearn

Grandmother

Listen, be very still.   Listen to the blessed birds . . . her tender voice and gentle words trailing off as she studies my face.

And so I listened to her, and then to the sweet songsters in the green-gold evening.  The grandmother, the birds, soon to be silent when the indigo night fell at last.

learning to listen
her gift, my legacy
the grandmother
I wanted to be
a trembling of sparrows

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About the Author

Mary Frederick Ahearn lives in Pottstown, Pennsylvania. “Writing is a great joy to me, and with it, the interaction with wonderful poets from all over the world. Reading, photography, and being out in the natural world are delights and solace for this introverted soul.