Grandma

I finger the intricate stitches

of love remembered and worn.

Dusk of time crawls through

windows of my soul

in silver shaded hours.

Silhouette of her love lingers,

darkness of night lifts

as bathed moonlight fills

chambers of my heart.

I sift her spirit through

hourglasses of faded time,

embracing her image

as I rock solemnly

in her worn rocking chair.

Fresh jasmine of her scent

soothes my skin.

Tears no longer line

my brittle heart

as I gather the love

inside her shadow.

Fragmented echoes

hear the bell

of final call.