Moments With My Granddaughter

Sitting on a single bench

And staring at the folds of my hands,

I look up to behold your mouthful of teeth and bouncy curls.

And hear your voice squealing “Gra!”

My heart pounds like new.

I lift you up, hugging and feeling the delicacy of your skin

and remember bottles, a rattle, and laughter

New life that I relish, momentarily.

Then, with sudden urgency, you are off and running

And I am taken back into my own being

I inhale a deep drag of my cigarette

And I glance down, into the folds of my hands.

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