I had spoken of you
Just the other day.
Passing the past
On to the present.
Spoke of sleepovers,
Of doing our nails,
Of listening to music,
Of giggling together.
A recent picture had shown
How much like Grandma
You'd grown to be.
Memories linger,
Black hair, just touched with silver.
Not grey, never grey.
Memories taunt,
Sunlit backyards,
Watermelon spitting,
Horseshoe and wiffleball days.
Picking red roses,
Climbing in the front.
Sitting under grapes vines,
Climbing in the back.
Memories we share
As we say goodbye.
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