©2018 by Reyna Queen. Proudly created with Wix.com

Betty (a poem for my grandmother)

September 29, 2006

Betty

I remember the creek behind grandma’s house

I remember exactly how it smelled

I loved going to grandma’s house as a kid

The meaning of grandma changes as time goes by

As the taste and age of wine changes

Some years are good and some are not my taste

 

I regret not writing to grandma

I feel much time went to waste

But the times I did spend were educational

She made me value my own beliefs

Since she was stubborn in her own

Some beliefs I related to, some were not my taste

 

I know what it’s like to feel special around grandma

Knowing that she tells her friends all about me

That I am an important topic of conversation

She made me want to talk about her too

Like my favorite color of cobalt blue

She colors the world to my taste

 

I know my family history because grandma took the time

To collect memories about all of us

I feel worried that I will not be able to replicate those memories

As well as she does

I am afraid that I will not tell these stories

To the taste of my grandmother

 

I know that I will tell others about my grandma

Despite her stubbornness

Despite her closed mind to my religion

I will only know how she was a part of MY life

I love her just the way she is, because she helped make me, who I am

She is my grandmother and the feelings she shed to me taste wonderful

 

-R. Velarde (2010)

 

 

Please reload

Our Recent Posts

My Mother Was Screaming

May 8, 2016

The Purple Card (a short story... based on true events)

June 19, 2012

Betty (a poem for my grandmother)

September 29, 2006

1/1
Please reload

Tags

Please reload