By Diana Raab
On the small porch
beneath her bedroom window,
where she took her life,
my grandmother and I
used to sit for hours watching passersbys.
She taught me
the art of people-watching,
inspiring the writer in me.
Now, decades later, I sit
on my own porch and see
how narratives form life’s tapestries.
I never got a chance to thank grandma
for her gifts: teaching me to type,
and her nurturing while my parents
worked long hours in their retail store.
No chance to express gratitude
For telling me not to burn bridges,
to write my thoughts in my journal,
to smile when sad,
and to be with those who inspire,
and to listen to my heart.
But, in the end, I did get to thank her,
because the trauma of losing her
lived in my body and was born as poetry
and I told her so yesterday
when she returned outside my writing studio
as a fluttering hummingbird.
Oh how I wish she can hear me sing,
this song of love
like she sang to me
on my childhood porch.
Diana Raab, MFA, PhD, is a memoirist, poet, speaker, and award-winning author of fourteen books of poetry and nonfiction. Her writings have been published and anthologized worldwide. Her latest book is HUMMINGBIRD: MESSAGES FROM MY ANCESTORS. (Modern History Press, 2024). She writes for Psychology Today, Medium and Thrive Global and is a guest writer for many others. Visit her at: dianaraab.com.
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