Inheritance

I don't know her --
never met her face to face
and yet, and yet
I know her
and claim her as my own.
As, if not more than, family.

She's got a Texas accent sweeter
than clover honey-- a sound of home
(though never one of mine) and
it wraps around you as fierce
as a mother's hug. Come hell or high water,
I'm keeping her.

She's feisty, yet a total lady. Like the
calm in early moments of a day
when one lone bird trills dawn to awaken,
I hear her voice when chaos reigns. She's
under my skin and in my heart.
A ripple of current, that connection.

Gracious as a shared cup of tea,
with a spine of steel and a steady hand.
Nothing fazes her, no chore too daunting.
Easily can I envision her holding down
the homestead back in the day.
She's timeless.

She thinks my husband and I
are the unusual ones. The dear lady
has no clue how rare she is.
Our paths only crossed due to a loss
we share, And yet, and yet what a legacy.
In her, I have received a treasure beyond explanation.