GRANNY’S QUILTS

In 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