My Nan's Other World
I would hold my silence
in the presence of that
‘away’ look on her face
and wondered where she was,
what land or dimension
held her in its embrace.
Seated in her chair,
crochet rug across her lap
or, on cold, bitter days,
around her frail shoulders,
her eyes would be fixed
on something that was beyond
a child's vision.
She was elsewhere.
I would wait, curled patiently
at her feet until she returned
to find me there,
on the doorstep
of this world, ready
to welcome her back
with love.
Now her age, I too
stare off into the same place,
out to where this world
begins to dissolve
into a myriad of parts,
each glittering in a firmament
where even words
flare like sparks,
consumed on the edge
of some ultimate meaning.
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