**Written and dedicated to my grandma in the month of her death, September 2008.....We were very, very close.**

I was alone

And yet not alone

Because thoughts

Of you

Were with me

I sang

The last song

I ever sang to you

And it ripped my heart

Like claws

I let thoughts

Of you

Fill my head

Because then I lived

Those moments

Over again

And again

I heard your laugh

Saw your smile

And I cried

I wished I could grab you

And pull you

*Okay everybody, I have decided to just go ahead and make this fiction (which it kinda is anyway) even though it's in poem form. Life will be easier this way. Hope you enjoy!*

They sell fruit in the markets, and bread.
Fish, too, and all the usual things.
But then there are some corner booths in the shade.
And they have a lot in jars,
a lot in tightly shut pouches.
A penny for this, a nickel for that... I dig in my pockets every time,
my useless change suddenly full of worth.