One year ago I tossed and turned
on the night of October 21,
As I recalled all the memories
Of my grandmother’s life.
She could cut a mango
with her eyes closed.
Four feet of love,
Marleny Salazar
Loved to tell tales
While smoking a Marlboro red.
Like a true,
tiny Colombian lady
She never left the house
Without her high heels,
Make up like Marilyn Monroe,
Nails polished,
And hair ironed.
Once she was kidnapped
From Miami to Tampa
But she wouldn’t let them take her
Without applying lipstick first.
She was the first to teach me
A female’s fate is not defined by marriage.
She faked her
abusive husband’s death certificate,
So she could flee to America
With her daughters.
The woman could sweet talk
her way out of anything.
She had more than five senses,
Won the lottery twice in her lifetime!
Her fortune was built on a simple motto,
The mind gets what the mind wants.
She taught me chamomile settles the stomach.
She had a witchy way with plants,
Homemade potions
for my sister’s childhood warts.
Once she put a tomato on my boyfriend’s eye.
A placebo you could argue,
But a grandmother’s love can cure anything.
Death is so abrupt.
Shocking,
Like when you drop something precious
Down a hole and realize,
you’ll never see it again.
Where did she go?
Aggressive nostalgia visits you as grief.
All the memories come back,
And you’re living them over again.
How do I know I’ll never forget,
If I don’t write it all down?
The same day her body turned to ashes,
We planted her favorite flower in the backyard.
Sunflower seeds laid to rest,
While my sisters and I reminisced on her life
Hoping her departed traits would scatter among us.
She taught me empathy,
And every animal
should be treated like a person,
Part of our family.
When I close my eyes
I picture her now with
long Rapunzel hair,
A lavender couture dress,
Nails red as blood,
high platform Chanels,
And a cigarette in her fingers.
She’s a queen living in her fairytale farm
Filled with plants and animals.
She always believed in spirits, the good and the evil.
My mom tells me to light a candle in her honor,
And some days I hold my hand over the fire
Longing to feel her
But other days I don’t have to.
Like this past January,
When she woke up the tiniest sunflower
to sprout from the ground,
On the same day she was born.
#dearsundaymoon #titamarlenysalazar #freeversepoetry #spilledpoetry #poetrycommunity #noplacelikethepage #poemsdaily
