The last picture of my grandmother and myself was taken in her room
at the home. I curled her hair and on our way out for milkshakes, I did
the quick, one-armed stretch with my cheap camera, hoping we’d both
be in the frame. The picture is blurry, but turned out to be my favorite
of us together. After her death, the blurriness seems barely noticeable,
like her last breath escaping slowly. A low wind, I hear it still, rustling
leaves and see it gently dance flowers on calm days.





sigh... good luck





























101 old applause
