Flour and Potatoes

In my day said the grandmother
as she hobbled along the broken frozen sidewalk,
We didn’t have such sadness in the world.
She stopped to catch her breath a second.
We knew pain and emptiness, war and death she said.
But the children did not listen.
They were anxious to push on,
to get back home to supper, where it was warm and safe.
The ache and longing you know in your youth
is something that still hasn’t touched me in here,
she pointed to her broad chest, And I pray never will.
She made the Sign of the Cross,
shifted the brown paper bag containing flour and potatoes
to her right arm, and limped on,
the laughter of children falling gently all around.