Yiayiá

I am a child once more, frail and dependent

I rise shakily and they rush to steady me,

How strange, that used to be my job.

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When I sit alone and silent, I begin to remember

A time when my skin was smooth and unblemished

And my hair fell in dark waves down my back.

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But that was before I donned this black vélo

Now the world is dull and full of hazy images

My hands are gnarled, my hair white. I don't understand.

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How long have I lived? It's hard to say

Moments slide by as I sit watching

I'm waiting until they tell me it is time.

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Time to eat, time to sleep, time to say hello

Time to remember, "Don't you remember?"

I think I do, I think I know this girl before me.

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When I last saw her she was older

Her stomach round and fat, full of life.

Now she is young and her hair is golden.

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I reach out but all that remains is a whisper

"Goodbye Yiayiá", that's what she calls me

They all do, perhaps that is my name.

.

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Authors Note: In case anyone was wondering the word Yiayia is greek for grandmother, and a vélo is a vail. I hope you enjoyed it, please review,

Thanks for reading,

Katherine Elizabeth