Grandmother's Hands
As a child I would place my closed eyes
in them
while she hummed Gaelic melodies.
Her smock, it was brown
like a butchers apron
but without a speck of blood,
just daubs of fruit dumplings
and the savor of elderberry flowers.
Grandmother had large hands
working hands,
when they closed
it was as if her story book
had closed
at the end of every day,
and that is how she goes away
always very quietly
at the end of every day.
© 2 days ago
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