Ode to my Native Grandma
copyrighted with all right reserved Sharon Rose PoetThere are some things I didn't understand;
As rosery beads hung from your trembling hand,
And coldness lurked where your Heart used to be,
I wondered if you cared or thought about me.
Now I wonder if anyone cared about you.
I'm sure you needed love and comfort too.
Were you hit for coming from the tribe -
Our Native blood now a shame you hide?
Did anyone love you the way you were?
Did anyone hold you when you were hurt?
Did anyone open their Hearts to see?
Why did nobody set you free?
