Her braided hair wound
around her head twice. Her eyes
smiled when her lips did.
She sang delightfully–
like the voice of a robin in April.
Her hands were warm and strong.
They made awesome chocolaty
sweets. She gave me hugs–
whether I wanted them or not.
Her dog, Bulger, toothless and cranky,
was a bulldog. The highest breed.
© 2014 Freeda Baker Nichols