The Pier by Cathrine Lodoen
I can describe for you
in detail
the pier where
I stood
waiting
waiting and smiling
for a boat to come and take me away.
You would see grey
while I only saw the yellows and orange and red
and green
the life.
Waiting and smiling at and for the time
she and I had just passed together.
Together.
The pier where I stood
when I last saw her
knowing while not knowing
that it would be the last time I inhaled her
true and unconditional love.
She is still there
on that pier
my grandmother
waiting
just for me
my grandmother
my dear dear grandmother.
Waiting for me
to come home.
I hope she isn’t cold.
I hope she is smiling at the reds
