New Poetry by Vern Fein

Mrs. Derment

I am 82 today.
While I cut the lawn,
I remember Mrs. Derment,
my first college landlady
when she was 82.

Walking past those Greek houses,
down those old streets,
fresh-minded new grad student,
I saw her first with her back turned 
in an old granny dress,
puffing a push lawn mower,
slight rust on the edge of the blades,
up the ridge of her yard.

She rented me a single room,
board elsewhere
and, new to that town,
became a friend. 
I watched Bonzana with her,
her wording for that cowboy classic.

Once stumbling back to my room
on a Sunday evening, 
a term paper weighing down my head,
she said:
Young man, (her name for me)
there's this group called the Beatles
on the Ed Sullivan show. Want to watch it with me?
No, I replied, I have too much to do, 
robbing myself of an iconic experience
to plumb the depths of Pope's Rape Of The Lock.

I am still fortunate to be able  
to cut my lawn with a power mower
and don't know how Mrs. Derment
did with just the old blades.
She died at 89.
I neglected  to see her that last year.
I think she is happy though.
Surely there is grass in Heaven.


- © Vern Fein 2020

A retired special education teacher, Vern Fein has published over one hundred poems on over fifty sites, a few being: *82 Review, The Literary Nest, Gyroscope Review, The Vehicle, Courtship of Winds, 500 Miles, The Write Launch, Broadkill Review, Soft Cartel, and River and South.