Grandmother

Waiting for the end you craved,
still you had the presence of mind, like a spark
far away in a darkened house, to blow a kiss
and change the antiseptic room to your apartment,
to chicken broth and macaroni, to refuge
from Lithuania and Mexico and my school.
And all the things I could not say seemed, with a kiss,
forgiven. They didn't notice, but that was heroism;
and if I could send thanks to you in heaven,
I hope you'd recognize the flavor.