A Grandmother Behind Closed Doors
She wore an aura of light
and bent over a sewing machine.
Through thick lenses she peered
at every stitch created by her touch.
She didn’t say for whom
she was making the dress
while letting fine fabric
slip through her hands.
Her actions called it love.
When she’d give the dress
all she asked
was to see the light
in a child’s eyes
as she reflected
on life.
She’d hold the child
on her lap, and release
the child to laugh and play
in a park, so beautiful
and free as the bird
that flew through the sky.
(Based on a painting by Lily Pregianiero)
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