They Bring Grandma Home

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One large yellow leaf
from an unknown tree
has floated long and free;
has come down to me.
It is grandma.

I lift up ephemeral,
and feel her face
with one finger.
Too bright to be counted
among lemmings!

Veins are still vital
when they bring grandma home,
when they place her unfurled
in a front corner room
to curl soft around the light.

About this poem–A soft wind was stirring the leaves outside my place of work. I walked by a large yellow Maple leaf, and though I didn’t intend to start thinking of my grandma, I saw her in the leaf, so I picked it up and took it home. Family back home told me that grandma was moving back to her house that day because that’s where she wanted to die.

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9 thoughts on “They Bring Grandma Home

  1. Beautiful moment of synchronicity. I am not surprised to learn that you have these flashes of intuition. Many do perhaps, but few are open to them. Blessings to you and your grandma.

    1. Oh I was kind of weird about the whole thing about the leaf. I watched it decompose until it started getting brittle and broken and then I threw it away. Grandma has thankfully outlived the leaf.

  2. I loved this, Angie!
    My grandma has been on my mind a lot lately. I’ve been toying with a blog post for months and just haven’t set to writing it. Perhaps you’ve sent me a sign…
    The lovely leaves and light…so perfect. I love your poetry. xo

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