WINDOW POEM

Out of my grandma's window I see a golf course,

I see old men playing a game of golf.

To my left I see my many houses.

Rows and rows of beautifully built houses.

Today I don't see my grandma looking out the window with me.

She always there, 

pointing out the way the moon looked,

and how it looked different every single night.

I also see many new blooming trees,

reminding me it is finally my favorite season; Spring.

In the distance I see new houses being built,

new homes that will soon be lived in, and be taken care of with love,

just like my grandma took care of hers.