We sprawled across a quilt
in front of her fireplace,
playing phonograph records,
laughing nervously--
on a Sunday afternoon.
Her mom brought popcorn
and iced tea.
Her pop cleared his throat
behind the newspaper--
on a sunny afternoon.
We talked of school
and classmates,
she had just turned thirteen
and I, plus two...
on a glowing afternoon.
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She draped her silk scarf
across my face
as I held her hand
and traced quilt patterns
on a flaming afternoon.
I pledged that moment
to protect this angel,
lovingly, forever,
from guys like me...
on a loving afternoon.
Now with weathered hand
I trace a quilted face,
and listen to the music
from granddaughter's room...
on a Sunday afternoon.
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