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Still we spoke in different languages

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I never knew your language, Grandma.

my English     

     our d.ifference            the tongue of your        

                                                            b.irthplace

in this new silence      absent s.ilence

were you saying s.omething?

or was it all just some thing    formulated

in my seeking

    grasping       

m.i.n.d?

 

the screech of grey plastic chairs on cement seemed a d.isapproving           s.ilence

the brilliant colour on your cheeks in your passport photo obituary seemed a forbearing         

       si.lence

the stealthy sc.ent of vegetarian funeral dish.es seemed

a sil.ence which heralded a strange beginning,

life defined anew

without your sile.nt figure on the cool blue-leather .single-pers.on chair

 

we played checker.s once, sitting across each other,

s.il.ent

at the swaying, rocking s.queaking table       

I lost

                         overturned the thirty-s.ix double-sided piece.s  spinning through the air

you s.miled then, an     entertained     sm.ile

or maybe it was  dis.approving

            at the way your grandchild hated losing

or was it l.oving si.lence?       painful silen.ce?

 

my  s. e e k ing

  s e a r. c hing     mind

supplies all the answer.s

and all s.o many questions                  roiling            

   unan.s.wered

in my                                          unbearably

 

s.i.l.e.n. t  

  mind

 
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