Grandma
I miss
the scent of you
in sweet cinnamon light
and sunlight haloing your face;
lines revealing truths of your life story;
the stories whispered just for me,
the walks we took laughing,
songs endearing,
I miss
Too young
to know the pain
you suppressed deep inside;
a grandmother's adulation
doting on your grandchildren, as they play
among your roses and sweet peas.
you guided, blessed us with
fervent passion,
Too young
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2019
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