A Sonnet For My White Grandmother
Sometimes her name escapes my memory
The gray on her head I never saw grow
Picture unrecognized when it I see.
This little brown baby a source of shame
Mirror reflecting, are her eyes my own?
Never to hear her voice calling my name
Her last breath I was fifteen, not yet grown.
Knowing me not did she ever regret?
For regret stakes claim to this broken heart
How to love when there’s nothing to forget?
No time together, nor time spent apart.
One day her hand will surely smooth my hair
For her soul till then I offer my prayer.