A few generations back

The rocking chair against the chestnut rug,

she called my head to meet her beating hug.

Bellied chuckles that roll through living rooms,

she rests on breathing flowers, the rain has bloomed,

the singing clocks who greet the noontime sun,

her photographs dance, memories have run…

I don’t want to believe in a long time ago,

only moments that mean something,

and those that don’t.

When I shut my eyes

and take a deep breath,

your scent finds me

and my heart finds your chest.