A Poem for My Grandmother

I remember the mother, the mother of my mother, the one who took care of her and her brother, late night cries, lonely eyes, You baking biscuits. Oh, how I miss it. We had so many good times from '94 to '09. I can't believe that you had to die. Every morning waking up knowing you were there. We should never have taken each other for granted. Instead, we should have cherished the seeds that we planted. We should have cried a lot less and laughed a little more. Take very opportunity, not closing one door. I hate so many words were left unsaid and so many chapters of our Book of Life unread. (M. Cannon, 11th Grade) Image: "In Grandma's Hands" Keith Mallett