My Grandmother and Me...

And Noted To My Grandmother, Much Greater Than Me
by M. R. Brown

"The breeze that
crossed
his face held in it
the locket of
his father
and
the memories
of his
grandmother"

She promised
me
ribbons to
flow from
her hair.

The street ran
out and to
the ocean
where simple sands and
laughing
children were
all that
were left
of the summer past.

On the bed
where her grandson slept,
now she too
would lay
her head.

And as she
past from here,
she left
to me the breeze
that casts
from off the shores
and
off the crests of
each wave
that brings,
in moments,
her back to
me.

"As words would slip from off her lips he swore never to fall for such devices. The standing lamp of three lights was missing one bulb, and never again was the room adequately lit."