Doorway

This fall, grandmother passed away.

What remains vivid is the journey home from school.

Her silhouette, stretched long by the setting sun,

Would gather me in an embrace before I even drew near.

And when I finally reached her side, she would lift me high into the air.

Now, I have grown tall, taller than she was.

Yet whenever the holidays bring me back, stepping across that threshold,

Those sheltering eaves, always feel forever beyond my reach.