I long to be a child again
in my grandmother's house.
The memories that linger
fresh in my mind.
I'm mixing pancake mix in
a baby blue bowl,
that I'm sure has stood the test of time.
My grandmothers hair isn't grey yet
and her eyes are that bright sky blue
looking back into mine.
She tells me stories,
about the people she misses
and the ones she remembers fondly.
She tells me the adventures
she has planned for me
for the day.
And the pancakes are done.
The faces she makes out of fruit
and chocolate chips
that sit on top of the pancake.
The tv is playing
The tangerine bear
that she puts on VHS
because she knows
It's my favorite movie
And all feels right in the world.
The colors are brighter
The saturation is higher.
And home is a place
Not a feeling.
That I can always come back too
In my grandmother's house.
YOU ARE READING
Love, life, and everything in between.
PoésieNumerous poems about what love can do and how it hurts just as much. A collection of thoughts, feelings, and the universal experience of being a human being. Life! From ages 14-23.
