A Cup In My Sink

Kiki Mathis

She laid there, the woman that I knew as Nanna. Her voice like bells at Christmas time, no longer rang in my ear, the last meal she cooked was thanksgiving, her hands covered with lines of wisdom. They were to hold me and give me rare feelings of love and comfort. She laid there as I ate my hot soup, across the table, she used to sit and eat with me. Now, her appetite has perished. I keep praying that the Lord will let her stay, but in my heart I know its time, there is nothing else to be done. Nothing, unless it was to love me some more, but what would life be without life? SHE was my life. If I was wrong her shadow was I, If I was correct her shadow was I. I didnt have to worry, if she ate I ate, if she slept, I slept. And when she is not here anymore I don't know what I will do. A week came like summer in December and she was gone. GONE. Her house.. empty.. this is where she deposited her love..but life is different there. She begged me to become something, and as my palms grow sweaty and my heart beats consistently I walk to the wooden casket and what I see is peace. peace because she left me, but we will roam Heaven together. If my book of life can be as good as hers in this horrible world we call our life then maybe then...maybe then I will breathe.