Doorway

 


The Threshold

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.





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