GRANDMOTHER REMEMBERED Poem by Luz Mary Giraldo

You fold and unfold shirts
as if you were tying and untying time.
Here the stockings and the shoe box
on this side the thick shawl for the afternoon cold
the dark dress for the feast of shadows
the red one to soften sorrow.

In the chest
the veil of childhood
and the velvet of years' sleep.
The embroidered camisole takes its nap under the sheets
and the silk handkerchief keeps relics of remembrance.

The house you carry
about bundled
is a backyard of time
and a patio of cherry trees
it is dinner served for all at night
children in gardens and a hidden secret.
Pages where there are poems
prayers and dreams.
A bunch of violets
smelling of jasmine
of mint
of wind.

An icon of luminous background
sleeps in the living room
and the word waits
in the entrance
with the cup of wine
a two-letter tablecloth
and the bell that tolls recalling the dead.

The house you carry about
knitted in silence
folds and unfolds your dream and your sleeplessness.