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the last time

i held  
her hands,  
so fragile  
and filled  
with age,  
experiences,  
how gentle  
she touched  
me back,  
á
her smile  
defining her,  
not heavy  
but seeming  
sincere,  
and through  
her orchid  
scent,  
á
i noticed  
her eyes  
watching me,  
they had  
that caring,  
and that  
was  
the last time  
i remember  
talking  
and being
with  
my grandmother.
Written by wolfatthedoor1966
Published
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