I remember her wrinkles
the way her mouth drew up
just before a smile
the way she sang off tune
and loved a red convertible

and how one time she trapped a skunk
that was getting into her bird seed
and let him go
without getting sprayed

how we listened with amazement
and laughed
at the stubborn eighty-year-old woman
battling woodland creatures
and winning

how I always cry when we
sing her favorite song in church

God, I miss her

How Great Thou Art

how great was the woman who loved us
who was so amazing
that even a skunk knew not to spray her