/   /  By Emma Birches
Stone Soup Magazine
July/August 2001

By Mark Roberts

I saw a hot air balloon this morning
And immediately thought of you

Every time I am on the hill
I yell “Hi Grandma!”
As loud as I can

I look at the ancient hilltop tree
How its branch is pointing
To all the land you loved

I look at the vineyards
And I remember
How much you treasured them

When I climb the hill
I still remember
Scattering your ashes
How they blew on me in the wind
And I didn’t brush them off

I think of you quilting
Even in intensive care
When it was hard for you to breathe
And when you wanted off life support
But stayed alive until we were ready

I remember playing cards
Listening to classical music and
Spending Christmas mornings with you

Now I can listen to your voice
On the life story tape
And sleep under your quilt
Whenever I want
But that is still nothing
Compared to your love for me

Grandma Mark Roberts

Mark Roberts, 10
Windsor, California

About the Author

Related Posts

Why were they leaving her? Where were they going? Illustrator Angelica Devers, 12, for Face Your...

A note from William Rubel Submissions! Wow! Many of you were certainly busy over the holidays. We...

She noticed my tears and said softly, “Look at the sky” Illustrator Hoang-Mai Davis,12, for The...

One Comment
  1. TNTGirl January 28, 2017 at 3:21 pm Reply

    Amazingly written poem! It touches my heart and calms my soul! Boy, I love this piece. It makes me think of ocean crashing on a cliff while I sit with my Grandma and Grandpa watching the sun set over the horizon!

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: