She lives on
Long ago, when I was small My grandpa took me to another town, We stopped at a tiny cottage To visit a lady in a long, baggy gown. Her eyes showed a twinkle And she had a double chin, She was my grandpa’s mother Which made her my direct kin. She wore high-button shoes I thought she was kind of odd Her apron was held with safety pins She acknowledged me with a nod. Her hair, pulled back in a bun Was now streaked with gray, It was once bright red like mine Would I look like that someday? She...
