The Old House (a poem for my grandmother)
The Old House (a poem for my grandmother) death stories
  1
  •  
  0
  •   0 comments
Share

everydaypoet
everydaypoet Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   3 months ago
As I was sitting down in my grandmother’s chair, just days after her death, I pondered on the lack of her body being there and how empty and naked the house felt without her.

The Old House (a poem for my grandmother)

The old house feels bare without her in it

Her withered body on the agèd chair

Her sweet and gentle kiss and caress

Embalming me in the love of God

The old house feels bare without her

Her simple laugh that brought life to my own

Was causation enough to cry and laugh simultaneously

And beckon me to salvation

The old house feels bare

Though her prayers linger here.

Stories We Think You'll Love 💕

Get The App

App Store
COMMENTS (0)
SHOUTOUTS (0)