Grandmother Poem

Poem About Missing Native Land

A girl writes of her grandmother who came to America after World War II. She longs for the life she lost in Belgium.

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Longing For Belgium

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Published: February 2006

she speaks slow, deliberate words of reflection:
the rich, black soil,
back in the old country.

my grandmother longs for pieces of Belgium,
as she works her hands in the thin, sandy soil of America,
where the seeds don't grow like they used to.

you will not hear her speak of the Nazis,
it was the Germans that changed the land.
they were why she met an American soldier,
drifted to this continent with fragments of her family,
and only memories of the soil.

her native tongue lays silent,
except for birthday wishes she whispers to her brother,
her senses still longing for the early morning markets,
and the fresh vegetables that smelled of the earth.

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