Her mouth clicked every time she stopped speaking.
It was like the noise of a thousand polished pebbles
striking a church floor, all at once;
Hollowing out my little white bones, each pause
calmed me, while I sat snug in the backseat of her car.
Grandma would open her mouth, say something—
and then CLICK— ck.
Open up again, make some remark—
and then CLICK— ck.
When we buried her, I regretted not reaching in—
forcing her mouth open— and slamming it shut;
Just to hear those dentures CLICK—ck;
For old time sake.
I think everybody there would have understood.
I was just too scared of what else might come out
from Granny’s mouth—
for old time sake— ck.

written on 12/28/2010 by: Matt Kane