On the porch she sits, telling us stories from her life,

Times and places of difference, tales from long ago.

She likes to knit watching life go on around her every day,

Playing games with the children, watching a show, baking.

She does not walk the same, as once when she was a younger lady,

Eyes that do not see the same wear glasses that make scenes clear.

Hair of a color so different from the dark, flowing that once was,

Aches and pains from a lifetime of once energy and much play.

Grandmother, you were once a young girl just like me, a picture i see,

You have had such a life from many stories sitting on the porch, told to me.

You are grandmother, one day I shall be like you, telling stories of my own life,

Different times, I will age and have had a life, I will be one day grandmother.

Keith Garrett



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