My Grandmother
I only remember my Grandmother
As an old irritating woman
I have no memory of her
As the beautiful young girl
She was
My Grandfather
Died when my Mother was young
I looked at the pictures
Slightly blurred
Sepia toned
The face of a man
Looked back at me
I man I did not know
I remember seeing a photo
Of my Mother
When she was about three
My Grandfather was standing
Over her
On the sidewalk in front of
Their house
He was a large man
With a great stomach
I wonder how my Grandparents met
What they thought when they did
Was it love at first sight
Were they happy
Did my Grandmother really
Want children
Or would she have liked
To have lived another way
My Mother kept
The beautiful little
Pierced plate
In the cupboard
When she got it out
She would tell how
My Grandmother
Prepared Communion
On the little place
With grapes painted on it
Each Sunday
For thirty seven years
Since my Grandfather
Died so long ago
My Grandmother
Lived alone
Was she lonely
Did she cry herself to sleep at night
I wonder how she did it
So many things I would
Have liked to have asked her
Note: I think I was a bit of a brat, growing up, always in a hurry… no time, just to sit and think, always busy. I’m sorry now, I didn’t know how to ask my Grandmother all the things I wanted to know….
Claudia asked us to write a poem and ask questions of someone famous, or someone else…
annellannell 