Pie on Cement

pie on cement
before we can open the screen door
it’s what i see.
i look up to gram’s stricken face
departing from sense

lost work upset
pride on cement
my stomach upset
before the
warm hello I’m used to

I’m used to being the big surprise
not the prize creation
made for me
now just a few hot crumbles on the plate

the rest fallen
skin coming off gram’s
already disappearing case for
her self
already so thin
it’s barely able to comtain who she is

it glows so brightly now
all that makes up
Eve Stolberg
Queen of All Pie Makers
my grandma

her burned, bony, reddened hand
still gripping the pie plate
“oh that’s not anything” she says to my concern
I am heartsick to see
one little piece of her
scared her comfort
with losing that little piece of herself
is just the beginning of
her comfort with
all of her leaving
and I know she is leaving
that is why I am here

I have flown from San Francisco
to be together the way we can
the way it’s always been
but today we cannot.
there is no pie to eat.