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.