your letters

My grandmother's poem for a wistful evening.
I wish I'd time to miss you--but my days
Are full of other things.
You thought that when you'd gone,
I'd need you and I'd call you back.
I thought so too. But now it seems
Those things I loved the most--
Your eyes, your voice, your smile--
I still have in your letters
Telling me that it's you
Who take your turn at needing me.