Anna Mary Robertson
I think of her often
She had cooked and cleaned
And run a farm and
Put up guests;
She sold the produce of her
Land and made
And sold potato chips
Of all things;
And in her seventies, she thought
She’d try to paint
Depicting life as it had come to
Her;
Someone who had a way
Espied her work in a place,
Thought it
Ready for
The nation—
It was:
To give it a name,
Call it simple, call it native, naïve,
Call it primitive.
She spoke through all the plains she painted,
And we listened.
Her last name was
And is
Moses,
And she had the better part
Of all of us;
Like her namesake, she
Led in prophecy
And simple, mere
World-changing delight,
A commemoration and a celebration
Of what is
Colorful and real and
Good.
C L Couch
photo found at WikiArt
clcouch123 
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