in the hours before her heart stopped

grandmother died with tussled black hair
in a blue johnny -- her perfect brown eyes
wide open

on a cold march day
at the end of a long cold war

there were three clouds
each fell from my left eye

the rest of everything was blue
like a flood of despair
or just another pathetic ocean upside down

a thousand words, every one silent
due to lack of meaning
in death we searched her for everything.

it was 10pm the night before
when she said,
"I love you honey."