DnW Poetry Contest #3: She Continues To Smile

I walk into the tall building,
hands shaking, thoughts racing.
A desk of frowning faces ignore me.
I lean forward and say "excuse me, I am lost, can you please point me to room 203?"

A lady with a face full of botox and makeup,
who looks at me like I've ruined her holiday in Balingup,
glares at me as she gets off her desk chair and shows me to the room.
The room 203, where my grandmother rests, I assume knowing her doom.

I reach out and pull down on the handle,
she's laying on her bed reading a book by some woman called Maybel.
She looks up at me, and instead of looking despondent,
she beams up at me with delight and contentment.

We sit and talk and we laugh and we smile.
She doesn't stop smiling at me the whole while.
She rests her head down as I watch her eyes turn golssy.
She is still. She is quiet. She continues to smile.

by 13 year old giraffe on skates