there was not a more beautiful day in memory
warm skies dotted with cotton floss
sun glossing and sparkling off every surface.

the day of my grandma’s funeral was perfect
for playing road hockey. for sun bathing
maybe even for swimming

thanksgiving was a day to be grateful
a summer dropped feather while flying out
one last stop before migration

when asked
the toothpick dam shuddered
threatened to splinter
cold inky water welling up my throat

my grandmother finished my quilt
six years before she died
her name, not only in the corner
but in every single stitch

patches the colour of warm sunrises
heavy cream and bright mint leaves
the grey of a smirk just waiting to burst into giggles
the colour that wells up inside you during a hug

right now it is folded, waiting.
she made it while dreaming for me.
too big for right now.

big enough to cradle me after success and failure
the perfect size for rolling around lovers
warm enough to remind me how to support my partner
durable enough for cuddling sick children

large enough for the future she won’t get to see.