White and trimmed in Gold.
Her purse was crotchet
And stood out
In the dead of winter.
Unmatched by her dark
Colored clothing.
I knew it was you.
Always standing out
And never without.
Yet, I don’t know why
You visited me today.
But, your old colors spoke
To me in a discreet way.
Gold was always your thing.
24 karat, you gave birth to bling.
Your white couch,
It was off limits.
What grandchild didn’t sneak
A seat on it back in the day?
And I remember the crochet
Dolls that you created.
You AND Mrs. Koontz.
But I still don’t know why you 
Visited me today.
The lump in my throat,
Won’t go away.
But my mixture
Of emotions
Stir quietly,
Waiting for an answer.
I don’t know why you
Visited me today.
You are here. 
(c) 2012
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