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moments with my grandmother

i cannot remember the moment we first met
a potential memory, shrouded quietly by the blanket of Time
circumstances like leaves falling into unexpected patterns
much like life

i do remember a still Chicago winter
long swaths of snow painted across your yard
snowmen rising from my imagination, my hands
the difficulty, the fun of it all

i remember a fevered Sedona arrival
Kind of Blue and uncontrolled shivering
somehow a perfect compliment in the last miles
a prelude to something unknown and wondrous

i remember waking inside to an uncontrollable Sun
an ordered white geometry, the art of stillness above your fireplace
made chaotic and beautiful by its own shadowed contrast
kindling a desire to find, no – create – something perfect

i remember the timbre of your laughter
somehow like birds being set free in your eyes
which could be keen and piercing
when you restrained them

i remember how you instill your life with beauty
and how beauty flowed from your fingers into ivory keys
the coloured sounds painting the room’s air
making Time seem like a small thing, or like everything

in this silence i have learned much -
perhaps Time is nothing after all?

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