Standing in front of Union Station
A slight hunch to their stance
Soft, silver curls on one
Smooth white waves on the other
Cigarettes in hand sending swirls into the air
Two shiny black patent leather pocketbooks hanging
From the wrinkled crooks of their elbows
Fresh off the rails to see their grandson and son and
His wife and three daughters
Before they return north
They will
Beat us at gin rummy
Tell stories of Dad’s little-boy mischief
Buy us each a new pair of Easter sandals
And carve a ham with the skill of
A Grandma and Nanny
Every spring, as the flowers begin to bloom and we approach Easter, I think of my grandma and great-grandma (Nanny), who would take the train down from NYC to spend Easter with us when we were kids.
My Corner of the Village 