Pantoum for My Grandmother
by Julie Gamberg


My grandmother saves her Section 8 apartment,
The river from her window smooth like stone,
Canadian Geese on the lawn come wintertime.
My grandmother burns with anger; dignity, her salve.

The river from her window is smooth like stone.
My grandmother is not the easiest person to talk to.
She burns with anger, dignity is her salve.
Her lips close and purse when she disapproves, which is usually.

My grandmother is not the easiest person to talk to.
The nursing home smells of urine and creamed meat.
Her lips close and purse when she disapproves, which is usually.
They handle her there, do not ask permission.

The nursing home smells of urine and creamed meat,
So she is keeping her apartment, empty as a hand.
They handle her, do not ask permission.
My grandmother believes she will return.

So she is keeping her apartment, empty as a hand.
There is a waiting list thousands long.
My grandmother still believes she will return.
She lives in a city where people sometimes freeze.

There is a waiting list thousands long.
My grandmother saves her Section 8 apartment.
She lives in a city where sometimes people freeze.
Canadian Geese on the lawn, come wintertime.






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