Grammy

I’ll go to visit you 

In the green fields of my youth 

Your skin as soft as flowers 

That dot the hillside 

My mother she will hold 

Your hand until she knows 

That you will safely make it

Through her memories 

I remember summer treats

Blueberries between my teeth 

Raw cane sugar in a little bowl

Whole-oat oatmeal by the window 

I can’t recall the sound 

Of your voice while we sat around 

The dining room table full 

Of food we had to share

I loved that magnet on your fridge 

Of Jesus on a tie die binge 

I’d get him down to his underwear

Then dress him up again