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Grandma's Precious Silver
She smiles with eyes weak but expressive
Wrinkles moves around them like breaking layers of land
Like age
I see through them a time of love, deception, anger and joy
I see through them generations of eyes like hers
Millions of strands of silver plaited into braids cascading over her shoulders
Like rain pouring gently over land after a long drought
Making everything beautiful again
Deep lines corner her mouth that has spoken out, yelled at
And even placidly threatened
But remains radiant whenever she smiles
Evident veins run up her hands like narrow rivers
Streaming that precious love to and from that strong beating heart of hers
Memory escapes her like an infant chasing a butterfly
With arms out stretched wide
Beauty just out of reach
With her precious silver shining down
Sheltering my face
Her hand covering mine
I see through her eyes the vision of our last goodbye
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