Oasis

The smell of a thousand dusty yarn balls slapped my nose.
The old women sat around the television crochetting and others sitting at
the table playing cards.
THe walls were painted a light maroon.
It seemed like time was frozen,
as if you were in a winter land where nothing moves,
but the warmth of the old women keeps it alive.
Each one of these old women was once a princess,
dancing in the meadow without a care in the world,
only now to be trapped inside an old fragile body.
They may not move around as much,
but the love they make me feel as I walk in is like none other in the world.
As I kneel beside my grandmother and whisper in her ear,
as she tightly holds on to my hand I tell her I love her,
and she becomes young again.

-- 12/05
Scott