GRANNY’S QUILTSIn that far back-bedroom with no heat in, Granny pulled those quilts up to our chin.
Two little brothers, each by my side, were tucked in snug like they were tied. We could hardly breathe— there was more than one, each so heavy, seemed like a ton. There was no tossin’ or movin’ ‘round— those quilts held us tight like we were bound. From the time she tucked us ‘til mornin’ light, we were warm as puppies on a three-dog night.
I could see the moon thru’ window shinin’ as I crept off to sleep with no tears or whinin’. For ya see I favored Granny’s warm ol’ quilts, an’ I’d dream of playin’ on skates or stilts, ‘Cause life was peaceful an’ without a care— safe an’ secure as we lay there. Back in that bedroom, way down the hall, where under those quilts we moved—not at all. ‘Til Granny released us when she opened the door, an’ our feet felt the cold when they hit the floor. I’ll remember Gran’s quilts ‘til my dyin’ day, an’ wish I was still sleepin’ in that cozy way.
Tamara Hillman ©2008 |
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