Gone the flour-sprinkled apron, the wrinkled hand Tha t soothed my moistened cheek when lightning flashed, And Debbie broke her leg and couldn't stand; Gone lumpy fingers reaching as I bashed T h e glass that Grandma treasured long, I know, To splintered fragments glittering on the floor;
Sketch: Vol. 33
, Article 6.
Available at: http://lib.dr.iastate.edu/sketch/vol33/iss3/6