native soul
native soul poetry stories

redvelvetcookie conquering the world, one poem at a time
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a poem I wrote about my beautiful and intelligent grandmom who played such a major role in developing my interest in reading and writing as a kid

native soul

when I was little

I saw my grandmother struggling to read the words

in my English textbook

the Z's and the F's slipped off her tongue

and she played around with the S's until they sounded like something else

every memory I have of my childhood home

is of my grandmother sitting in the sun and reading a book

short stories of Premchand

adaptations of the Mahabharata

translated Agatha Christie

and as the hours faded into the night

my grandmother had to keep her book down

she had to do other things you know

serve dinner, clean the house, put us to sleep

and then in the wee hours of the darkness

she would sit down again

with a different book in her hand

and drink in the worlds of

monsters and men in far off lands

it was like seeing a man drink water after a hard day out in the fields

like seeing someone quench their thirst

but somehow no amount of water

was ever enough

no amount of books in her native language

ever enough

so when I got up in the middle of the night

to get a glass of water

and saw her up and reading in the faint light of the kitchen

I made up my mind

to read as many books as I could

to grasp all the stories in all the languages of the world

until somehow it was enough

to quench the thirst in my grandmother's native soul

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