The long black coat hangs in the armoire
heavy with silence
decades of un-wornness
a lifetime in the tropics
gathered in the seams
Dead at eighty-six
she never returned
to her woolen-some place
Or did she?
Bed-ridden for a year
what if once set free
she flew
to the brown green mountains
her eyes took the color from
saw the intact unclouded un-cataracted
blue sky?
Better than imagining grandma’s
soft stare hanging on forever
within some colorless
paneled walls
Or not.
(From Sea of Rocks, Unsolicited Press, 2018)
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