Photograph of Bobci...

My house is your house she said to me
Come on in we’ll have sweet black tea
Eyes so old they held all wisdom and time
Scarf so bright upon white hair sublime

Should I enter I thought should I dare?
The walls painted with abandoned care
The rugs had pictures of distant lands
I felt I could jump right into them

I knew she came from an older time
I felt some how she was a friend of mine
Her apron made me see the ancient forests
With dandelions yellow and red wild roses

I paused a bit then stepped right in
The world around me began to spin
I grasped for her, I gasped for air
Next thing I knew I was a part of her

For my Bobci (grandmother)
Bronislaua Wankowicz (Durkalec)