“There,” points Grandma.
She had a tent that was a home. 
She had a goat and a camel.
She had a rake and a fork and a trowel. 
She had a machete and a watering can. 
She had a grove and two hundred plants. 
She had a child and another one and another one. 

                                     *

“There,” she insists. 
I could not see 
Because of the wall.
I could not hear 
Because of the noise. 
I could not smell
Because of the powder. 


                                     *

But I can always tell, 
I am sure of Grandma
Who always was 
And is still
And always will be. 
She smells like soil. 
And smiles like soil. 
And blinks like soil. 
When touched by rain. 

                                     *

She has a house that is a tent
She has a key
And a memory. 
She has a hope
And two hundred offspring. 

                                     *

Grandma is here 
But lives there. 
“Over there!” 

^{May 15, 2012}