Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Second home

Over a decade ago,
I had a second home.

I still don’t know if It was somewhere
in between the nestle of my grandmothers
arms or the hot springs of her wet kisses,
either way it gave my summer's a heartbeat.
A young boy memories for a lifetime.
That mattress felt more like it had a
sky underneath it instead of a floor.

She would walk them
mornings like no tomorrow.
With keys jingling in her hands
that sounded like wind chimes
dancing with the breeze and even though
cancer left her voice sounding
like exhales of cigarette smoke,
it was still music to my ears.

She was still old in a young way and
more poem than I could ever hope to be.


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