Today's poem is by Lana Hechtman Ayers

Priorities
       

Swoosh of my grandmother's small
socked feet across the oaken floor
as she attempts
not to wake me lying on the sofa
pretending sleep,
dawn light combing through her mussed
salt and pepper curls,
faded blue cotton nightgown flowing
like the tide as she quickly slips outside
to retrieve the newspaper from the stoop.

Grandma reads the horoscope first
so she knows which shoes to wear,
how lightly to step into the day.

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Copyright © 2023 Lana Hechtman Ayers All rights reserved
from Main Street Rag
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission