wearing a short hair
a smile
her hands clasped
she sits beside her
sick grandmother
the faint light
by the window
enters gently
filtered by the
thin silky drape
the grandmother
is dying and her
daughter has an
axe to grind
she comes as
an offering
a link between
two worlds
long separated
by indifference.
RIC S. BASTASA
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/granddaughter-sitting-beside-a-sick-grandmother/
