grandmother’s chair

Summary

The webpage features a poem titled "grandmother’s chair," a tribute to the author's grandmother, alongside other poems by the same author.

Abstract

The webpage presents a heartfelt poem called "grandmother’s chair," which is a poignant tribute to the author's grandmother. The poem vividly describes the grandmother as a strong and nurturing presence, likened to a tree, whose hands and voice evoke the imagery of nature and the connection to ancestors. It captures the essence of family bonds and the passage of traditions, suggesting that the spirits of the past continue to influence and dance with the living. The page also includes a photograph by Taylor Ruecker and links to other poems by the author, such as "Erasure," "someplace else," and "Wax," each with its own unique theme and dedication.

Opinions

The author holds their grandmother in high regard, portraying her as a symbol of strength and nurture.
There is a deep reverence for family heritage and ancestors, as indicated by the mention of the dead being remembered and honored with a lit candle.
The poem suggests a belief in the interconnectedness of life, with the grandmother serving as a bridge between the living and the spiritual world.
The author seems to appreciate the beauty of nature as a metaphor for life and family, using imagery such as trees, birds, and forest creatures to convey this.
The inclusion of other poems indicates the author's dedication to the craft of poetry and a desire to share personal reflections and experiences through this medium.

A poem dedicated to my grandmother.

Abuelita sat on the wooden chair until her body became a resting trunk. until her cracked hands looked like tearing bark. she would raise me high in the air with her branches until I was firmly seated on the stump. like a small bird’s beak, her fingers scratched the sky, finger nails becoming twigs. the steady motion of rubbing two fingers together, fingers of those brittle hands made the sound of rustling leaves coming together in the wind. her voice travels through the forest, reawakening the ghosts of our ancestors, giving light to the idea that the ancient can dance in between her living roots and come together as a familia with the earthworms and the beetles down below. my mamá always lights a candle for them because she said the dead can’t see in the dark.

Thank you so much for reading.

Poetry | Spanish and English

grandmother’s chair

A poem dedicated to my grandmother.

Erasure

A poem.

someplace else

A dreamy poem about life in quarantine.

Wax

A poem dedicated to my mother. Thank you fo