Grandma Poem by Michael Arnold

I watched you fade
Away in those short
Young years of mine.

Grey hair framing
A deeply lined face;
Corrugated by life
In the hard lane.

Ten children later,
Your husband no more.
An air of poverty,
Never talked about.  

You were always sat
In your chair by the fire;
Summer and winter

Waiting to give audience
To whoever dropped by,
Radio crackling in the
Background-

Mrs Dale, Workers Playtime,
The Archers?
I can’t remember.
 
You were like a sunflower
In a drought; wilting slowly
Towards the ground
You would soon be part of.

I saw you that week;
I didn’t say goodbye.
I never saw you again