Dead Grandmother Writing

I keep the door closed

so I don't see his train table,

dinosaur rocking horse,

Peter Rabbit toys and books,

play-doh, pat bells,

animals and clothes.

There's no escaping the swingset

up the ridge on the upper terrace

of my backyard,

so I don't go out there much,

not even to my firepit.

A million reminders

every minute

of every day

of what was

taken from me.