The Visit

For a couple of years now, on the anniversary of the passing of my Nanna, I have dreamed of a fleeting moment with her, either just a glimpse or a few exchanged words. The first time it happened I wrote this poem, but it has happened again this year and I wonder if it is the time of year and its events that is knowingly sitting there in my subconsciousness or if, perhaps, just maybe, she does pay a little visit?

Anna Ghislena

Image by Darren Levine on Vimeo Image by Darren Levine on Vimeo

You came in just before I woke,

I saw you straight away,

“Hello Nanna, it’s you”, I said

But you didn’t look my way.

“Hello Nanna, it’s me”, I said,

as gently as I could,

and reached my arms about you

to hold you where we stood.

A marshmallow cheek so soft against mine

And your hands warm and smooth

Despite all this time.

But too soon I was stirred

by a voice sharp and quick

and you must have heard

my consciousness kick.

With eyes wide open I shut you out.

©Anna Ghislena

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