She’d move along in measured paces wearing sensible shoes
from down the street by the park where Washington met Lafayette,
and the giant oak we’d worship and play kickball beneath

Each weeknight, the umber circle on her right shin commuted
from a city bus to the front door of my suburban childhood home
Sometimes I’d watch the moving bullseye grow from a dark dime to a darker quarter

Grandma and her mole would always arrive on time for supper.
And after working a full day at her paper factory job, she’d retire to her bedroom,
watch Perry Mason, smoke Parliaments and knit something for somebody

But every July 4th, after the dinner dishes were cleared away,
we’d enjoy the illuminated night sky, we’d eat red, white and blue cake,
and we’d sing Happy Birthday to Grandma

An oldie but goodie🌹 (from left to right) my grandmother, my mom, my uncle

HAPPY FOURTH!
Happy Birthday, Grandma ❤️