My First Memory of Her Face

Warm little destiny in my arms
silent at the dawn of day,
watching closely to memorize me
Soft you nuzzle in
like the light floating from the window
Encompassing us
in the quiet air
I sing to you, my old voice often catching
as you look unashamedly at my face
Who are you?
So serene in this place
in my arms, as if you know the future
something in the eyes
following nothing but my soul
as we rock back and forth
greeting time.

-for Florence, my grandmother who 13 years ago tonight left this world, my first memory is of her rocking me by an open window.