Friday, February 5, 2010

Grandma Clementine

Young hands to old hands like the skin of a clementine peel--then peeling and then drying and then cracked. I've been crumbling dried clementine peels and smelling my fingers for the catches of dying scent. Her hand moving, patting my palm and plucking at my fingers. It was only then I realized the difference between touching and being touched. I left one peel by her side. I broke it evenly into dried pieces that smelled like candy and left them there. I know I cannot save them.