It is early evening
But I, reading about the midnight watch
My nostrils of a sudden caressed
By the subtle scent of rose petals

Begin to dream of my Lola*
Who faithfully prayed the Rosary
Every night, in the dark of night
In her corner of the bedroom
Every night, without fail
‘Til she no longer remembered how.

She has been gone many years, now
But her memory once again graces my mind
With the freshness of the winter flowers
I laid by the Blessed Virgin statue

On Jan 19, 2007.

*Tagalog for the endearment “grandma.”

© 2017, Dorothy Long Parma

One thought on “Grandmother

  1. There is almost something magical about recalling memories because of a scent or sound, etc. It’s like being in two places or times at once. Thanks for sharing your poem with us this month. 🙂

    Like

Discussion is welcome! Thank you ...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s