“Pretty girl”
listening to loving words.
Knitting,
sewing,
and paintings around.
Money given in secrecy,
grandmother to child.
TV and movies,
crafts galore,
and all of this
now is no more.
“Aloysius”
running around the yard.
Red-headed friend
and the dark-haired child,
imaginations run wild.
Power Rangers carrying
Grandpa’s old
handcuffs.
His diet sodas,
never without socks,
talked to God every day,
gentle kindness in every way.
By blood or not,
love washes over
in delicious dinners
or games in a well-kept garden.
Crying and laughing,
running round and round,
the child of yesterday
could never frown.
Now I must remember
to smile today,
for although bodies die,
memories don’t pass away.
