This poem remembers my great grandmother and her legacy.
It was never cold when we visited Grandmom,
always warm.
My siblings and I, we looked
forward
to visiting and loved
that we were so quickly invited
back.
Grandmom had so much, it seemed, and
she made sure we had plenty.
Memories, stories, pictures,
all framed.
She loved to laugh and tell stories.
We loved to look around and listen.
The plastic sofa
became so comfortable.
So comforting.
We learned about our family,
digesting her words carefully.
Our bellies would be full.
There were always leftovers.
I remember the blessed meals
that came out of her cozy kitchen:
hot grits and fried chicken
were my favorite two.
Grandmom never sat down.
No, she constantly searched for ways
she could be of service to us.
Time sat down on the plastic sofa
with us.
It stood still at
that little home in West Philly,
where Grandmom loved in abundance.
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