Nothing will ever again
be my grandmother’s celebrity gossip magazines
smelling of Jacobs coffee,
sprawling across the kitchen table
that’s pressed up against the pear colored wall
I am a 12 year old tomboy 
and Gramma D inspects her crossword puzzle
She stacks the sandwiches on a platter
pairing them with her vitamins and herbal pills
Nothing will ever again
be my grandmother’s woolly slippers
emitting the toxins of her pearly nail polish,
tapping Euro disco hits on the maple floor
that have been excessively polished
I am now an 18 year old
and Gramma D preaches her infinite wisdom over the phone
clutching my expired yearbook picture
at a kitchen table in a different time zone