Learning Death Exists
I pause the white rocking chair
and stand when guests pour
out, my purple dress in contrast
against all of the dreary black.
Why do they wear black?
I sneak back in to pay a visit:
her hair still thick and white,
her skin still pale and wrinkled,
and her eyes still closed.
Why do you sleep Granny?
I lay my sleeping doll beside her
and whisper in her ear I stole some
sweets and want to share. I extend
my hand, but she does not take it.
Footsteps sound from outside. I hide
the sweets down my dress and kiss
Granny on the forehead; she is so cold,
cold. Granny? Her lips turn blue
(the opposite of Auroraâ€™s), her hair
changes to gray, and her bed closes
as tainted hands tug me back my bare
feet not touching hallowed ground.