Wrinkled and grey

is the skin on her hand,

slim fingers so cold

trembling in the air

when she reaches to hold

my hand inside hers.


The despair and the pain

running through her veins,

her eyes so blurred and weak

as she tries to focus her gaze

and whispers: “I’m sorry, my dear”

then turns away her face.


A tear manages to escape

my eye while my heart breaks

as I realize that she is sorry for

everything she’s done and said

over the years…but she will no more…

and I forgive as she takes her last breath…



Copyright by Anna E. R. Walczak

Somewhere in the Northern Poland


In memory of my grandmother Halina, who has just passed away. Rest in peace, Grandma.