An Apostrophe for Grandmother

to the woman who told me

of the song of the rain:

 the tap-tap-tap, as it falls

from the grey sky;

and of the sleeping flower

finally waking.

The melody of your humming:

Us both beneath that tree,

The song you were singing—

My first memory.

You never heard but you had listened,

Lovingly, intently through the end.

A child you care for asking for food,

Will blurt it out; you understood.

Now you’re asleep, quiet, at peace—

Surprising all, as we ponder this.

The song had stopped, so did the humming.

A pining, a void, opened before long.

I won’t despair—you’re in God’s hands,

Humming your song with angelic bands.

I say my thanks and my good-night.

Night-night Grandmother. Sleep you tight.