Grandma

Surrounded by sickly white walls, a machine gives out its mournful cry as the life it once held becomes a flat line.
Across town a small child awakes her mind reeling with the memories of fresh baked cakes.
Farther away an order is made for a dark oak casket filled with blue satin waves.
Inside a dank little church surrounded by graves an old woman with paper skin lays.
Soft jazz can be heard playing around the room.
A single white tulip is held between two wrinkled hands, and a small diamond rests upon a silver band.
Somewhere in the crowd a child comes up.
The smell of sage fills the air and a white cotton dress brings memories she can’t bear.
Like a dam bursting water spills from her eyes.
Images of better times flash through her mind as she softly whispers “good bye.”





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