It's time for them to leave
my grandchildren
my home my soul
filled with their two week universe
smiles, frowns, barbecued sirloin
soda, disorder, order
sniffling, jeans falling off waist
dwelling place of wonder
mystery
life in years
years of life
all is my grandchildren
now write is all
my soul can squueze out
squeezed like a lemon
lemons syringed with juices
of a universe growing
transforming
for them
to return to
and that's their grandpa
me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem