My
grandmother
died today.
I tried to think of
something,
anything that
could do her
justice.
A smart, beautiful poem
that would explain
what she meant
to me.
But nothing
would come. All I could
think of were those
four words:
My grandmother is
dead.
And all I
can picture is her
sitting like a queen
in her wheelchair, beautiful
and detatched,
yet
still the
heart of everything in
the family.
But no words will
come.
My
grandmother
died today.
