Saturday, February 13, 2010

poem about Grandma

Here's something I wrote this week, in an assignment imitating some author we like. This was meant to be in the style of Ted Kooser, but I'm not sure how that part turned out.


Handing her the teeth for her smile every morning,

Giving her the windows for her eyes

And tucking the earpieces behind her ears like curtains.

Arranging in the grey wheelchair

Limbs that are every day unnoticably lighter

As muscles atrophy and fat taken out of reserve

To feed what that no longer desires food.

Saying the words again

That she no longer recognizes-

Good morning. Want some tea? Here’s a blanket,

Gramma. No longer her name,

Just two syllables she hears us shape with our lips.

Telling her the words for her crossword

To fill in the blanks she leaves,

The blanks for nouns she fills with adjectives,

The blanks she fills with words she just created,

Long blanks when she doesn’t speak for hours.

Watching her lights dimming

In this unstoppable mist,

Until in this life only the blue foglights

Of music can make her smile.