Grandma,
Tell me your stories,
Your time-machine stories.
I don’t know
I just always felt cozy
The way you opened up
Hands, home, smile.
I bet there is still an impression
Of warmth around your table
Though for many months now
You have not sat there,
You have not lived there,
You have not been waiting,
Like you always were,
With candy and laughter and stories.
Grandma,
If you’re listening
Yes, I miss your voice.















