my grandfather
on father's side
came from edinburgh.
i can only remember
a few things about him.
i, a child: he, old man
who lived in the basement.
tall, thin, proud to be
one ancestor removed
from a builder
of firth of forth bridge,
that structure still stands.
ancestor doesn't.
anyway,
at this juncture,
i won't deviate
from established pattern -
bore you
with a lot
of trivial details,
childhood memories
of a man
my father
called
my father.
but i do remember
one night deep in winter
when grandfather
went for a walk.
when he came back
he had a shine on his face
that felt like the glow
one gets from family blood
and, ever since then
i've been haunted
by images of a searing,
blinding bat wings enfolded,
hovering over my family
just waiting to devour
one more forgotten ancestor
It is a delight going back to childhood memories! Those memories though fragmented they be, connect us to generations gone before! Enjoyed! !
Father's Father is a poem of intimacy, respect, and love. Bridge still stands. I enjoyed the poem. Thank you.
a good read about ancestors. yes one leaves and another appears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delightful poem, Doug! I never had the pleasure (yet) of meeting my father's father, nor my mother's mother. I look forward to doing so one day. I especially liked the ending to the poem: and, ever since then i've been haunted by images of a searing, blinding bat wings enfolded, hovering over my family just waiting to devour one more forgotten ancestor Very well done.