Grandmother’s Voice

When I fell and bruised my knee
You didn’t kiss it and make it better.
“Get up,” you said instead. And when
I did, I was proud I was not a quitter.
Through times of rough and troubled waters
You held me up just long enough, before throwing
Me back in.
“Swim,” you commanded and when I did, I felt
Really accomplished within.
Always austere but never foreboding, that’s how I remember
You. With fond thoughts but an empty heart --- death has taken
You way.
But even in death I hear your voice.
“Live,” you whisper. And in so doing it
Gives me courage traveling your pathway.

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