Grandmother

A liberal take on pantoum

She reached out an arm to gift me a pear
as I sat cross-legged, my hands turned to my back.
Her hair wasn’t yellow, but some would say
it was the only shade a rainbow might lack.

As I sat cross-legged, throwing my hand towards her gift
her nose crinkled at the bridge in a smile.
It was the only thing missing from Mona Lisa
that could have made the museum trip more worthwhile.

Her nose then smoothed at the bridge suddenly
to show her ambiguous side I suppose.
What could have made a trip to the farm more worthwhile?
Maybe when her hem reaches her chin if the wind blows.

To show her my own ambiguous side, I turn
my face towards the shade and blow a kiss.
Maybe she’ll think it’s for the worms underground or
when we walk back home she’ll still ponder on this.

With my face towards the shade, she can’t catch my kiss,
but her hair wasn’t yellow and some would often say
when we walk back home she’ll still ponder on this:
Why she reached out her arm when I already had a pear earlier that day.

(Jana Ferreira, 2015)

More Poems

Published by Jana

My two big loves are food and writing.

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