Mint summer dress,
billows around her honey-brown knees.
Tosses her smile towards me, like tinsel.
I catch her smile within my child heart and run towards her.
Memory plays tricks on me; white light streams across that moment and absorbs her laughing shadow.
Empty space over a half a century later.
That remembered garden of yellow sunflowers spilling down the mountain,
sunflowers,
their eyes brown like the eyes of Grandma Mae,
keep an eternal watch over me.
Jenny W. Andrews copyright 2021
Jenny Grace's Poetry and Creative Writing Techniques 