Grandma

I see it even now
Pawing the ground.
Four-footed horned beast
Creature in the stars,
Your sign my Taurus Grandmother,
Hanging in a gold prison around your neck.

You smile for the camera.
The black and white leads me to believe this picture recent
Two years before the end four years ago perhaps.
But the mod shirt tells another story.

I look to the left
Another still, this time of a man.
As handsome a man
As you are a beautiful woman.
Full head of hair
White teeth
Blond hair and blue eyes imagined
Though black and white tell no tales.
You both stare into nothing.

Above you a framed paper,
Marlbrough school for girls.
Curious name, familiar, ironic.
Polly Latham, 1949,
This diploma tells nothing.
You were there 13 years.
Did you have a boyfriend?
What did you think about?

To the right
Side by side framed sheets,
Leland Stanford Junior University.
He was mechanical engineering,
You were political science, humanities.
How did you two meet?
Did you tutor him in English?
Did he tutor you in math?
Did you two debate?
He was conservative.
I can't believe my
Pro-choice, feministic, individual grandmother
Paired with a ROTC.

When he got back
3 June 55 (frame below him)
Were you happy?
He's smiling
A dashing figure in a dashing uniform.
A year active for Uncle Sam completed.
55? You were pregnant a few weeks after.

When he said he was getting his masters at Harvard,
Were you upset about moving from your home?
Mom was born in Boston.

I look for more tidbits of history.
The remaining black and whites
The three daughters.
I do look like my mom.
One family portrait on the wall.

Wedding pictures down the line.
You and him
My mom and dad
The middle
The youngest (her last one, not the first).

Pictures of me
(You notably absent since these are from recent years)
My cousins,
My brother
The family dogs, Teesha and Nicky.
Teesha died a few years before you,
Cancer.
Though she didn't cause hers.

Darnit Grandma!
You were so strong.
You did stop
When you were hooked to a machine and fed baby food.
He took care of you as you withered away.
Did he cry?
No pictures from this time.
I leave this mausoleum.

Fresh air
Grandpa, how morbid you are.
I suppose you had to keep this souvenirs of Grandma.
Open-mouthed statues of birds that used to be my toys
Are sitting on your patio table.
I used to play with these 10 years ago
Until ashes fell all over my new dress
From their ash eating mouths.
Grandma took me inside and cleaned me
Then returned to feed them.

Strong woman who I never knew
Strong as the bull around your neck.
Independent, proud,
Imprisoned in a gold prison.

By Beth