In the kitchen, Grandma hides money
in flour-jars, and back of cabinets.
I watch her move slowly, from one space
to the next.
In the bedroom, she hangs a painting
of Black Jesus. I watch as she stares at it,
like a window into another dimension.
In the hallway, she sweeps the floor with
long, slow strokes. Her wedding ring is dull
from the dust, and she wears a girlish grin.
In the living room, I find a picture or Grandpa.
He stands tall and proud, in the kitchen near the
cabinets, with the painting of Black Jesus in his arms.
I can’t help but to wonder what Grandma is thinking.
Maybe she's thinking about him leaving money
in the kitchen, the money
she used to pay his funeral, and mortgage.
Him, painting that picture of Black Jesus, his way
of repentance for not going to church.
Or that hardwood floor, he laid it all by himself,
for her, on Valentines Day.
In the bed, Grandma passed away, under
the painting of Black Jesus, the fan blowing on low,
and Mahalia Jackson singing strongly on the record player.
She had a single wet tear on her cheek, and a smile
on her face.
Her makeup was done, and her wedding ring
was polished.
Author notes
Soul meets soul on lover's lips.
~ by Percy Bysshe Shelly ~
A contest entry
- Embrace~ by poet2angels.
700 points, ended January 13, 16 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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Beautifully written
Such depth and meaning, I love the memories captured within.

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Tis is gorgeous and so beautiful for the prompt...Touched my heart. TY so much for entering this wonderful piece!
Lynda


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A very touching and moving poem.
Very creative.
Great imagery throughout ..the ending is really good...kind of sad but not.
Excellent.

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thank u so much, im glad u enjoyed it. havent heard from you in a while, its a pleasure.
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This is excellent. It flows well, the imagery is good, and it sustains the dream. Well done!


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thanks for taking a look. Im glad u got some enjoyment out of it. much love and respect to you
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1 - 6 of 6



