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KD Burr

A Poem for my Grandmother


As a child

my dolls and I smoked fake cigarettes

like you did

Because I loved the way you looked

when you'd tilt your head and coolly

exhale the smoke

Like you were releasing spirits into the air

I thought when you dyed your hair red

that you looked so glamorous

I envied the way it always curled just so,

and when I was small you were never without lipstick

Applied more painstakingly than my clumsy hands could manage

As I grew older you wore lipstick less, but your brazen

laugh and the careless tilt of your head were still the same.

You let me stay up late watching shows my parents wouldn't allow

and bought my favorite junk food. I knew sleepover nights meant

no bedtime, endless rounds of Skip-Bo in your smoky kitchen,

and sharing chocolate Long Johns on Saturday morning

As a woman I could always count on you to listen to me, and more than that

You'd insult someone you didn't even know if it meant you

were standing up for me When I got divorced you told me,

"Welcome to the club!"

You saw my first tattoo and said to mom,

"Well, at least it's pretty, Kelli."

After fighting with my sister you picked me up, and got me cigarettes to smoke

while we drove around talking because you missed the way they smelled.

I still think of you laughing and breathing smoke into the air when I smell them now.

So many things in life are touched by you-- Zero candy bars, tabloid magazines,

plates with the faces of British Royalty, the plastic wrapped white mints I'd find in your purse,

(but never once saw you buy)

the smell of Elizabeth Taylor's White Diamonds and baby powder.

You're everywhere and in everything

In decks of cards and cheap romance novels

In fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and the chuck wagon sandwiches from

Willis' old gas station

And the memories of you may sting my eyes like smoke

But even still, I'm glad you're there.

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