Today is the birthday of my grandmother on my father’s side. I show her bridge each year, but here it is again since Patrick requests it for his challenge and this is my first response to it on my new blog. And some words got thrown together too.
The most of it
(Most means bridge in my language, Slovenian.)
The bridge over the Drava river
with the Pohorje hills behind
where skiers race for the Golden Fox trophy.
This was your view
and my father’s until he got married
and now my sister’s.
And mine every time I visited you
and that was often.
And now my sister shares this view
with the ghost of you
- friendly, smiling, benevolent ghost -
walks up and down your steps
- fourth floor without a lift -
eats in your kitchen
washes in your basin
watches through your window
at the ducks you liked to feed
at the river flowing
- it’s not the water flowing
but us -
at the buses on the bridge
- are they still orange?
Until it’s time for her to cross
one of the bridges
and go to where she cooks
in your spirit.
It was always so good.
You were always so there.
In the photo part, photos from four years ago when I took amore to see the city of my grandmother. He loved it. The camera was still my first, a Canon, whereas now it’s a Nikon. This gallery is a bit self-ful, sorry about that, but it’s personal. I loved my Baca. Happy birthday.
(I solved the matter with the captions. If I enter them as captions as well as photo titles, they are visible also if you view photos in the gallery. Yeah!)
In response to Patrick Jennings’ Pic and a Word Challenge #168: Bridges