An Old Story

by Cynthia Anderson

­

There once was a lonely man

in a house on a shady street

who saw my grandmother,

five years old, and took a shine

to her, wanting a daughter,

someone to look after, someone

to raise—and soon, someone

to cook and clean and care

for him. He went to her father

and tried to buy her.

She was the ninth child

and her family was poor,

so the cash would have been

a windfall. This man knocked

on the door for weeks, brought

candy and begged. But her

father stood firm—I can’t

spare any of my children.

Not even one. How often

in her life did she pass him

in the street, the park,

the square—and what sigh

of relief did she breathe

when he died?

* * * * *

Cynthia Anderson lives in the Mojave Desert near Joshua Tree National Park. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals, and she is the author of nine poetry collections. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. She co-edited the anthology A Bird Black As the Sun: California Poets on Crows & Ravens. www.cynthiaandersonpoet.com