We satAs it rained and drenched the thirsty soilWe satAnd laughed and talked and drank teaSeventy-seven years apartBut closer than a mother and daughterWe exchanged simple wordsMine so young, so naiveHers wise and old and perfectI scratched the head of her dogI dreamedThe dog was my brother and she was my motherBut the dream never came trueShe was mi abuela, my grandmotherHer hands were as crinkled and dryAs the books she so often gave meHer body was weakBut her heart was still strongOr so I thoughtThe day I became oldI learnedof how she lost her will to liveof how she lay therewilling death to take herI screamed and cursed the earthAnd my world clattered down around meInstead of laughing, now I criedWhy oh why did she want to die?I criedLike the rain that covered usSeemingly so long ago.