The sun smiled joyously upon
Her aged face, a masterpiece of shadows and
Burnt sienna, the slightest coffee tint
To her straight smile, she winked and set out
A plate of cookies, oatmeal raisin, and she
Was the only one I knew
Who knew how to make them just right
Her pale eyes kind, as she pulled back a chair
Began the elderly ritual of
Sitting down, I had seen those eyes turn to steel
Before, in eighty-nine when
DCF came calling, told her
They were taking us away, that same pleasant face
Went hawkish, eyes narrowed enough to burn right through
That young woman, who stood impishly before her
In her power suit
And I heard the gravel in her voice, barely audible over
The cacophony from the chicken coop, where she picked up her eggs
Each morning
"You won't take a one of 'em lady. Now you git yoreself on outta here."
Ancient history now though, as the sun finally summoned the strength
To shine full on through the kitchen window
And she set down a tall glass of milk, next to the fresh-baked cookies
Smiled and took my hand, said, "How've ya been? Ya hardly call anymore,
And I been wonderin' if ya ain't slipped off the face o' the earth."
I smiled back, twisted a cookie between my fingers
"I've been right here Grandma, never left."
No comments:
Post a Comment