Her face: the color of coffee after cream,
A dream.
She’s an old half n’ half
With white streak of hair,
But gone when I got there.
A sunny day, by the way, and
I walked in through the black, metal gate.
Seen on the floor- envelopes.
Scrawled ancient writing, letters,
Money and old heavy coins-
Scattered on the steps, on the floor,
By the door.
My coffee-cream Grandma was gone.
But it was a dream...
She looked like no grandma I’d
Ever seen.
One more scene:
She is slowly walking down
The street dressed in everything.
After waking from this dream,
In my mind’s eye,
I see my coffee-grandma leaving me
To die; making it seems she was finally
Going to live out some of her dreams.
I see her going on a train somewhere
Faraway, looking away from everything.
And my heart still flutters, and I feel an ache
Somewhere still not affected here
In the Real.