Once Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Once when I was little. Once when I knew nothing of life.
Sorrow and death visited me at my Grandmother's grave. Crying. I cried and cried because there was no longer a person who cared for me, loved me.
Would never again take my little hand in hers on journeys across the sea to her homeland of Sicily.
My heritage, it's presence was brought to me through her gentle caring memories of life now lost - left behind the curtains of her future.
Crying. Gone now her voice of broken English, her
laughter, smile - tears flowing - sad - a broken life
awaited me at her death.
Memories no longer being made, just remembered in the
passing years of life, of those when once I was little.
Once when I was young and knew nothing of life.