dedicated to my late grandmother,
Ardis Petersen
Lost, indeed, but also found
in that space that lies fallow. One
senses an absence more powerfully
than presence. Gone you are,
Oldemor. Gone Great Grandma.
Gone Mother, aunt, sister, friend,
cousin. Never again to see
your wide hips spread at the vanity
bench as you spray your puffy
coiffure with aeresole hairspray. Never
to listen to you stir your cocoa so
loudly. Never to witness a twinkle
in your eye when you correct my grammar.
Never to see your half worked
cross word puzzles lying atop your type-
writer. Never again to be
beaten by you at Scrabble.
And in these gaps, rises something new
in my longing. An uncovering in myself of
that which parallels who you were. A
blessing billowing out from a faceless
place of unknowing, deeper than flesh.
Deeper even than flesh.
Copyright 2008 Maia Twedt
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