I remember

Traditional free verse

I remember



watching her fingers as she crocheted

deftly folding meaning

from delicate thread

layering texture and beauty

in intricate designs

that spill from her lap

after months of gestation

bursting forth

populating the living room

like youngsters tussling

on the backs of chairs

gentle clicking of needles

patient rocking of her chair

wistful tunes that she gently hummed

the aroma of baking cookies

the spiciness of her chili

and the cold touch of the back of her hand

when she passed