I remember you in cinnamon
and nutmeg, and frosted
Santas with cinnamon eyes,
Oh what a beautiful morning
sung out of tune and with a
whole beautiful heart. A dozen
cousins clamoring for sweets,
attention, pinched cheeks.
Trips “Downtown” by bus,
where you bought me fragile
figurines and tiny pens. Waiting
for Grandpa on the rail tracks,
carrying his “dinner bucket”
and whistling. Firefly porch
-lights and formica tables,
and pulling down hung-dry
clothes; scent of sunshine.

I remember you meeting
my boy, your first great
-grandchild. Oh, I love him,
you murmured, and rocked
him for hours.

Oh, how you loved
……………us all.


Written for Quickly, Day 19.

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4 Responses to Gram

  1. Your affection shines through, and I feel very much like this when I think of my cuddly Grandmother.

  2. This brought tears to my eyes. How blessed you are.

  3. Pingback: A Favorite | Drift of Bubbles

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