"Where are you going?" Grandma asked.
"Taking a walk," I answered.
"In this wind?"
"Wind's good for you," I said.
"It clears out the cobwebs of the mind."
"Better leave the cobwebs alone," she said.
"There will be nothing left when they're gone."
I've walked the path many times
in my years.
Since I was a child
when the road was gravel.
The bridge was wooden
and pretty scary.
The county came
and paved it all.
But it was still desolate,
so I could walk undisturbed.
Grandma would fuss:
"Wear a scarf."
"Look out for cars."
"Check yourself for ticks."
Still I walked daily,
sometimes two or three times
and always returned home
to Grandma.
Now Grandma is gone
and her house is sold.
There's no reason to walk that road anymore.
I have a husband now
and daughter
and my own house.
But I carry in my heart
a country road
and a white farmhouse
and a special old lady.
I'll always have a home with Grandma.
About the Creator
Heather Cumbo
I once tried to major in Theatre, but ended up going back to my first love, which is Creative Writing. I am a huge bookworm and film buff. I also like theatre (the costume department), classic rock and folk music, and trying new things.
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More stories from Heather Cumbo and writers in Poets and other communities.
TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butlerabout 22 hours ago in Fiction
Comments (5)
So lovely <3 Also love the humour in the dialogue
Dang, Grandma is savage! 😂 Really loved this whole piece though, great job!
Beautifully told. I have such fond memories of my grandma as well.
Wonderfully told, I love it.
I love the warm sense of nostalgia in this. A wonderful piece of poetry. Well done!