My Grandmother

Soft hands when my head was hot
White hair like fluffed mattress filling
Calm patience when my mood was hard
Cheek kisses whenever I was willing.

The ice cream stirred on Friday nights
A lovely bracelet with no warning.
Princesses on the porch at noon
Warm cookies left on Sunday morning

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Yellow hands when they use the needle
Death circles when I come too close
Sticky lips with loose flying screams
Colorless vines overgrow your nose

One last heart beat on a Sunday morning
They pull the sheet up, proving your death
Your sagging face is finally hidden
I think of sugar cookies on my breath.