Grandma always had a bowl of fresh, milky cottage cheese just for me. She'd scoop a heaping dallop of Large curds (my favorite) and I would light up, like the tail of a lightning bug. The milkiness sparked my conversation so it seems. We shared long talks over curdled milk. Salt and pepper to taste. That almost describes us. She was old and reserved... and me, I was young, and full of.. energy, among other things. I rarely see my Grandma now. We walk different paths. We speak of different things.. and times. She doesn't understand the changing world. And I don't understand the world she lives in. Cottage cheese.. So strange a poem. So strange are my thoughts today. I miss my Grandma. I miss her trees in her backyard. I miss the way she sang as she cleaned. I miss picking blueberries, and squeezing them in my tiny hands. I miss her...everything... The way things used to be. When a bowl of curdled milk could make me smile.Birth sign: Aries
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