A strong, witty, tough, yet gentle soul, my grandmother was, I say with loving bias, truly one of a kind. Having been raised on a rural farm, in a large but poor family, she wasn’t particularly refined but she was filled with charm and grace. Of average stature, she could certainly seem intimidating when she had to, and she wouldn’t hesitate to use that skill when needed. It was hard to see the way cancer ravaged and slowly destroyed her body. This robust woman of barely 60 years old reduced so quickly to a shell of her former lively self.
Vivid blooms healthy strong stems
Blight wilts overnight
This haiku/haibun is dedicated to my Granny; her name was Iris.
Linked to CDHK challenge #720