She was that child of my son’s
Facing me each morning
Two hundred miles distant
Through a glass screen iPad
To start the morning hour.

Asking me her, grandma Mary,
‘What shall we talk about now’
Alex’s voice. Shouting Reading
So  she spoons breakfast cereal
And turns the pages of Peter and Jane.

Bouncing about in the early lighting
Against a wall of coloured drawings
On a blue wooden chair with aprons
Filling that loquacious mouth to the brim
Using uncommon words in her speeches
And cuddling ‘Rainbow’ her stuffed rabbit.

Love grandma Mary