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.
Linda's Literary Home 