Her musky, aged, antique smell.
Every Wrinkle on her face had a tale to tell.
Cracks on her palms, treasured stories of hardships and struggles.
Walked with a limp, like a boulder on her shoulder back.
Didn’t fall even with the deepest toe crack.
I lay my head on her motherly warm lap.
Her silvery smooth flowing hair,
gleamed with pride for her only heir.
She caressed my hair, sent chills down my spine.
Don’t you worry grandma, down here everything is (not so) fine.
Wish you were there for me when I needed you the most.
I will be there in the stars, will meet you once I’m mighty close.