June. Standing in an unknown and majestic Elysian field,
my grandma's ankles disappear in the crowded sea of weeds and grass
that stretch into the mythical distance.
Her young and attractive face bares an expression
of concern? yearning? desire?
what were you thinking as you squinted your eyes at the camera?
As she delicately leans in to hang a sheet on a thin invisible clothes line,
the clothes pins above her perch like birds awaiting to take flight.
Much like the birds we would watch from her porch,
when I would be her youngest grandchild
The afternoon light bathes on her face
also hitting the smooth curves of her knees
Her high waisted shorts emphasize her Italian curves
Who were you then before you knew me?
It is strange to see you so young, a different you.
Unaware that one day you would have a grand-daughter you would affect so deeply.
^^print I made, inspired by photo of my grandma^^
...The same photo inspired my poem in class...Thought I would share some contrast between visual poetry and uh well for real poetry with words and stuff ;)
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