To Grandma's Place

One day I will drop off

To sleep at Grandma’s house,

Down pillow under head.

The attic room so neat

And quiet fills the dread

That might have been

But Grandma cooks downstairs,

Disturbing not my dreams

Of flying over fields.

And lying by her side

We laugh of times now past,

Too soon, long gone.

I see in my mind’s eye:

A dash — blue bike, ice cream;

Or strolling to the store

On wheels, the cart behind.

We pull, now, I, now she.

We two but one.

Oh, yes, one day I will

Drop off to sleep, to rest,

With Grandma near at hand.

And rising, I will run

To greet her as I did

In youth, again.

Barbara Van Driel