We farewelled my grandma six years ago. This poem captures that time of saying goodbye.

• 

Joyce

braving the grim sky

we head out together

her grand and great grand

bundled like babushkas

atop the tram

guided by the faithful plod  

of a long lashed equine

rain spits across our cheeks

we look back on the hillock 

where yesterday

under canopy from the thunder and torrents 

decked in roses

she was lowered down

then at the house we sat in her room

just how it always was

looked through her wardrobe

at her dresses waiting neatly

for her 

now on the island we scramble up the rocks

stare out at the wild sea

and there 

bright as her decades of dresses

colours stretch across the sky

we imagine she is beaming

having gathered us like chicks

once again

©2019 Belle Perry