The Grandma of Want

She wanted to be the grandma

Who taught the kids to bake;

Bread and fresh muffins and cookies,

Things they could mix, sift, and shake.

She wanted to be the grandma

The one who taught the kids about dirt;

Raking the leaves and planting a garden,

Watering seeds, striped mud on their shirts.

She wanted to be the grandma

Who sang with the kids silly songs

Reading each night, making up words,

Beating a jig with bar-b-que tongs.

She wanted to be the grandma of doing

Not of shopping or presents or toys.

The one who listened and knew them

From day one ‘til their own babies’ joys.

Instead she’s the grandma of flight:

Here to there when schedules fit.

An outsider tiptoeing around strangers

A fire set to be kindled, remaining unlit.