A wry smile glowed

on her creased skin

and a tear sprung from her fountain eyes

my grandmother sighed…

her hands caressing the skin on mine.

“Beautiful and young you are!”

she whispered

ever so slowly…

gazing into the waning sun.

Her eyes lingered on the photograph of her youth

now as good as a reverie on our mantelpiece…

She was smiling at the lense

behind which stood

the very root of her happiness

she said.

“He was it …my dear” she whispered.

Her voice broke

Her hands trembled

but her smile glowed

Vibrant now

than the waxing moon….

“So close…So close”

she whispered,

to the moth wings making lingering shadows in the candle light…

the flames reflecting in her deep eyes….

for a moment

I thought I saw myself  fading into her.


2 thoughts on “Grandmother

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