by Tara Monjazeb

On your last day, you said you’d be
right behind me, everywhere i go.

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Patient hands,
collecting the sunlight
from the gaps in the trees.
Leafy shadows like fallen stars.

Anything is possible
under the pale sky,
in the breeze,
t-shirt fluttering behind you.

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Almond Croissant

for my Grandmother

On your last day, you said you’d be
right behind me, everywhere i go.
A ghost among the concrete and the trees.
I hope you enjoy the parakeets,
sunsets at Parliament Hill,
afternoon tea. The smell of
pastries a block away.

I found myself craving your favorite,
and the lady at the till rung me up for two.
I didn’t correct her, knowing that perhaps
you wanted one, too. Holding
that invisible umbrella,
like you said you would.

‎

© Tara Monjazeb

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Find Tara Monjazeb (she/her) on Twitter and Instagram @tvm_ok, or check out her essay newsletter on Substack called Devotions: devotions.substack.com.

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