An Ode to Grandma Sallie

It's in her sweet tea tongue

Her shady side-eye stares

The way she comforts and confronts

with the same twang

It's in her rich chocolate skin

The flow of her wavy ebony hair

How's she hates taking pictures Still the lens longs for her smile

It's in her fragrant hugs

Scent of Lavender and coffee linger

Warmth of arms wrapped tight

Where home and freedom are found

It's In her gentle laugher

The way she speaks with her whole face

Inflections perfected by God above

And even when she says just a few words

everyone holds their breath

It's in her homemade quilt

stitching reminiscent of tree-lined canals in Augusta

It's earthy smell still fills my nostrils

A reminder of a life well-traveled

Each patch tells a story

How delicate hands scrubbed floors

so we could earn degrees

It's in her selflessness

Pack of Winston's on the nightstand

Smell of Listerine on the bathroom sink

Homemade biscuits made fresh each morning

The one's she never taught us how to make

because this is how a chef shows they care

It's Her morning glow

Nightly reminders to not burn her electric

Saturdays full of Night Rider, MacGyver and A-Team

30 cent place in 3rd-grade hand for soft pretzel

Sneaking pieces of crispy pork to me behind mamma's back

It's in the way she called me Shiny and never Shana

How she saw my inner awesome

long before I could see it in myself

How she never judged me for being sensitive

Took her time to nurture my gifts

Made me feel seen

It's in how she lifted

How she lived

How she left...waiting for me