i look into my eyes to see grandma
the one i hardly knew
you died when i was too young
but i remember your stern face
you didn't smile at me once, more like a frown
my sisters said i made it up
how can a 3 year old remember things?
well... i think i remember you
nothing good, nothing pleasant
you made life hell for my mom who was so meak
or so people said, after you died
in pictures you never smiled
lately, i've been thinking of you quite a bit
i look into my eyes and i see your face
the resemblance sometimes takes my breath away
it makes me wonder did you die of a broken heart?
did you know grandpa had another child?
did you feel alone after everyone had left?
who was your mother? what were you like before we met?
why did life for you had to end that way?
sometimes at night i stand silent
infront of the bathroom mirror
i look at myself, and I think of you
someone i'm not sure i'd like to meet
but i look so much like you grandma
so much
the resemblance i neither reject nor welcome
i'm just this indifference
that's left of you - no one knows your people anymore, grandma
and perhaps in our time memories of you will fade
just like in another 30 years' time, the entire side of dad's will just
be like strangers to our family
you people who grew up so poor
who worked so hard and gained so much power
with customs and ways so difficult
with so many things left unsolved
sometimes i see you in my eyes and i pause
all i have is an old photo
(08/31/05)
photo: Delicate Shadow on Wet Stone by Craig Sadler
