Grandma suffers from dementia,
too many years of too much
hardship.
Always strong in her worship
"God" resting in every sentence.
But last night, she pulled me aside
with unclouded eyes
and whispered,
"I always see 'it' with you,
behind you. It's always there."
The hair on my neck rose
because she didn't say "God" or
quote a prose.
Then she kissed my hand
and leaked out tears,
for I think she has
seen that I am haunted
and fears that I'll end up
like her
after 75 years.