“Grandma”

When I was learning
to walk, you remembered to
let me fall — to teach
me to be stronger. When I

reached for the sky, you
remembered to let go; I
soared into the clouds
never looking back. When I

forgot to call, you
remembered to keep the gates
unlocked for me. When
I returned, you forgot all

the nights of praying
yourself to sleep and hugged me
tight; I remembered
how you used to be stronger.

Now, you smile sweetly
at me and forget my name;
I remember all
the times I should have called home.