I remember the arches of her feet,
high and
graceful;
high
and
empty;
high,
and tracing outlines of insoles,
clicky heels,
so high and black.
And now she's high
and dissipated
against/throughout/within
the blue and grayest
skies,
she's high
so I
still wear her shoes
to keep her memory
walking.
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This is for my grandma. She got MS, which cripples you, when she was still young and I watched her go from a vibrant working woman, up and off every morning looking sharp and beautiful in her heels (she wore them all day, everyday) to a shell of who she used to be, unable to walk a step.
ReplyDeleteNow, I have her clothes and shoes and when I wear them, I feel close to her again.
As I read this... I saw Gram's beautiful smile. Everytime she smiled, a bit of her soul shined into the world.
ReplyDeleteRIP Edna
I love you Jor.