When Nan died she
became a mountain,
I don’t know why and
it seems churlish to ask.
She suffers terribly,
forcing her craggy cave
of a mouth into the shapes
that form words…
It took Gramps a year and a bit to die.
Not one to do things by half he died three times:
the first time he said, “You know I didn’t feel a thing,
it was just like I was floating.”
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