When I was young, I built a bookshelf
to keep all my memories.
A rain cloud—a bookmark
inside my ‘Best Of’ volumes,
I turn to a dove-grey sky—
to my grandmother’s chapter.
In a thrift shop, finding stories
written in cameo brooches, blouses,
and fine bone china tea cups patterned
with faded blue forget-me-nots.
We sipped chamomile tea from them
to eavesdrop on conversations
of all the lips that came before ours.
I nested into her floral comforter
stuffed with clouds of polyester fill
while the drizzle on the window
harmonized with KeeKee’s purrs,
lulling me into a dreamy haze
as Grandmother read me Sleeping Beauty.
Now when the sky loses its colour
and promises light rain,
I go back to my bookshelf
and sip some chamomile tea.
Renee Cronley is a writer and nurse from Manitoba. She studied Psychology and English at Brandon University, and Nursing at Assiniboine Community College. Her work appears in Chestnut Review, PRISM International, Off Topic, Love Letters to Poe, and several other anthologies and literary magazines.