After Earth: Two Sonnets for Aunt and Niece

After Earth: Two Sonnets for Aunt and Niece

The pair of sonnets pays a glancing tribute to the lives of Aunt Winnie and her niece Linda Sue—two opposite personality dispositions with a few deeply ingrained temperaments in common, which tied their hearts and souls together in loving embrace.

An Intense Heart

In memoriam:  Winifred Lucille Richardson Goodin
December 22, 1932 – July 4, 2026

I am not now that girl of tender years,
My womanhood from girlhood having grown—
Roses push forth where once did dwell my tears;
Daisies push up while hands have turned to stone.

An intense heart had I, my breath took flight;
Now carved in stone, my name with years proclaim.
Those marbled voices bound with softer might
Than ever did my own out-spoken frame.

She dwells in ash, yet clutches at my core,
Though I have risen past her earthly stage.
Her silence tugs, yet I am hers no more—
A bird slipped from the prison of her cage.

Pure skin of light is mine, not hers to keep,
She decomposes, held in the big sleep.  

A Quiet Soul

In memoriam futuram:  Linda Sue Richardson Grimes
January 7, 1946 – 

I am not now that girl of tender years,
My womanhood from girlhood having grown—
Roses push forth where once did dwell my tears;
Daisies push up while hands have turned to stone.

A quiet soul I was, my breath held tight;
Now carved in stone, my name with years proclaim.
Those marbled voices bound with greater might
Than ever did my own soft-spoken frame.

She dwells in ash, yet clutches at my core,
Though I have risen past her earthly stage.
Her silence tugs, yet I am hers no more—
A bird slipped from the prison of her cage.

Pure skin of light is mine, not hers to keep,
She decomposes, held in the big sleep.