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You sit and sewed
For hours on end
You made costumes
For the Day of the Dead
And pretty blue dresses
That I keep today.
You used to make us waffles
That melted in our mouths
You’d have me take them out to father
When he was working
You would always smile
Even when you would wave your finger
because I'd misbehaved.
You always dressed so nicely
So impeccable
My grandma.
I looked at your pictures
The one of you when you were young
I see me, but you
You were always elegant
Classy and rich
I stared, but I did not see you.
I saw a young woman
With a cigarette
But not my Nonie
My nonie, with the pretty blue dresses
In the hospital, you’d pout
Your green eyes went wide
And you looked like a girl
Even with your wispy white hair
and your wrinkled skin
I loved you.
I like to remember you in your better days
When you were still okay.
You always seemed so happy
So busy
Taking care of your family
In the old Italian way.
If I remember you this way
I can be all right.
I still cry,
But I know you wouldn’t want that
It’s all right to miss you
The waffles and the dresses.
But you wouldn’t let it bother you
You would just march on
In your forward way
Because that’s who you were
So I’ll keep my memories
And keep going
And I’ll picture you sewing in heaven
With a smile and your waffles,
Making pretty blue dresses for the angels.
- Title: Pretty Blue Dresses
- Artist: APidjit
- Description: A poem to my grandmother.
- Date: 03/29/2009
- Tags: grandmothers love family loss
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Comments (1 Comments)
- Miekka Kuoleman - 03/29/2009
- intense. that's the only word that comes to mind. intense. you are a great poet keep writing.
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