Faded silver

A poem about my grandmother

Soft twisted knuckles

hide

the once glowing face

cherry lips, red dresses

curled hair, late nights

white wine and a cigarette

Silver hair tarnished with

faded elegance

woollen jerseys

soft shoes

clove oil

Brave vestige of a smooth gait

tightly wound wool ball

loosening as she knits

the radio banters

she softens

The birds come to her

for peanut butter

she sighs, age old whisper

twirling mirage of youth