For Lena

What memories did you take with you to Heaven last night, which dreams?  I wonder.  Is there a piano there for you to play?

I remember your small apartment: plastic on chesterfield.  And trinkets (dusted twice weekly) sparkling on preordained shelf.

I remember photographs as well: you amongst sisters in all shades of grey.

You loved food as I do; but you were more dainty about it.  Your house always smelled of fresh rye bread and melted butter.

You always were quick to laugh too: you encouraged me even if you were discouraged to do so.

I love you: say hello to grandma!

As Ever,


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