When I Was Sixteen
Enid C. Grayer
The phone rang impatiently that night
Shattering the silence
My father answered
When he said "Hello"
His ruddy face
Turned ashen
He fell into the tri-cornered chair
With the needlepoint seat-cover
My mother had made.
The crystal lamp above him
Cast a blue glow over the room
"I thought she would live forever"
He cried
As if
My ninety-three-year-old
Grandmother
Were infinite