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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue of cc&d (v243) (the May / June 2013 Issue, the 20 year anniversary issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:

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Goldie

Dana Stamps, II

Mother cleaned and polished grandma’s marker
(born in 1919, she lived until I was nearly 15).
She had been dead a year. Other grievers around us
were doing the same, polishing.

When my redheaded grandmother Goldie died,
it wasn’t sudden. A vegetable confined to a hospital,
emphysema got her. She had an oxygen tank

for a few years at home, then the stroke. She smoked
cigarettes, menthol Kools, all my life, till just
before the end – said they didn’t taste good anymore.

At the funeral, she looked porcelain white, and young
in her casket. I have only been to her grave

marker once. Spending the day on Mother’s Day
with my mom, she wanted me to go visit
grandma with her, so we went to the cemetery.

I felt hollow, numb.

Why don’t you visit me more? I was your grandmother!
pleaded her apparition in nightmares.
Because I decided that when you’re dead, that’s it,
you’re dead. But in my dreams,

I would not be surprised if her spirit visited; she loved
me loyally, and I loved her ... alive, not dead.

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