Ginger Ale, Cigarettes, and a Candle

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


A poem of my dearest memories with my grandmother, who is no longer with us. R.I.P Verna Lamee

Submitted: October 11, 2017

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Submitted: October 11, 2017

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Ginger Ale, Cigarettes, And A Candle

 

Every morning the same.

Rocking our chairs to the sweet songs of the birds.

Our sleepy eyes hardly opened enough to witness the color changing sky.

Unsteady hands strike the side of a matchbox to light a vanilla scented candle.

Another strike and a puff of thick grey smoke.

The fusion of vanilla and cigarettes stuck to our blankets.

Her voice was raspy, like a car driving on a bumpy road.

A request for two cans of Vernors.

I walked into the kitchen with the lowest amount of energy I had.

Opened the fridge to be  blinded by the only light in our motionless house.

Sips of cold ginger ale, pleasant and pleasing.

Refreshing winds pressed against our cheeks.

As the consistent puffs of smoke blown away by the awakening world’s first breath.

A delicate child intrigued and charmed

By previous stories of an immortal woman.

A bulletproof woman.

Inspiring the curious young ladies mind.

 


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