Grandmother stands
in her garden
picking
green beans
for the winter.
Her home
splinters gray as it
leans toward the sun.
In the cellar
she pulls on a string
to throw light
on her life.
Termites feast
on foundation
walls and into
the floor joists.
Flies die
on glue strips.
She takes Mason jars
from a painted pine shelf
and carries
them up
to her kitchen.
They rattle together
as she washes off dust,
sparkle
as they wait
to be filled.
