Remains of a Blurry Memory

I awoke to the rusted sun 

shining through a 6 foot tall window.

My eye lids struggled to stay shut, 

but were shrinking away from each other

as neurons jumped and revived.

A tall shadow crept in front of the rays 

melting away my catatonic state;

a dark figure makes itself known.

A crashing wave struck the back of my brain 

expanding down my nerves, 

preparing them for flight.

A lanky figure with an apologetic face,

matronly-built torso and full legs

which fade into black chiffon dust 

toward the floor

wedges itself between my curiosity and superstitions.  

I mentally shrunk into a crowded corner

where my fear of ghosts and mysterious figures reside.

I found my crying, shivering childhood self

cowering behind a memory 

of shadowy figures who quickly left 

after they knew they had been seen.

When I peek out, 
the faded woman casting her shadow over me

shows her soft, weathered face.

Unmistakable now, 

I’ve known her before, 

in a certain time and space.

Blinking uncontrollably to refresh the image

and rid the room of the familiar intruder, 

I watch her waft closer with open arms and tilted head.

To avoid showing my soul to this eidolon of my past 

I turn my heart away, 

she shrinks like a deflating balloon 

but continues to glide closer.

Her hands gently caress my shoulder and graze my knee.

Taking a hard, deep breathe 

I expel a demand with hopeful certainty

“You’re not real, you’re not here!”

And it was true.

She disappeared.

She came to comfort the inner cherub 

who felt more intensely abandoned than I 

would ever readily admit. 

In a strange way, I was happy to see her,

Its’ been almost a year since grandma passed away.