Grandma’s perfume.

I was supposed to teach grandmother English,
In return she’ll teach me to speak my tribe;
The tribe of my father with his father’s father.
But it was funny how our lessons went,
For there were times I laughed at her,
Other times it was she who laughed at me.
Lots of times I wondered if she heard me laugh in English.

I still remember the scent of her fears,
I still recall the aroma of her hope.
Her perfume was made with strength, courage, with lots of love too.
Sitting at her bosom night after night.
Drinking from her overflowing spring of gentle care.

She promised guidance before she left to reincarnate again,
For she believed in reincarnation, the gods.
And I still know the smell of her perfume.
For it was made with strength, courage, with lots of love too.

Younglan Louis