Sitting in his lap, leaning, listening, watchful...
Sunlight captured in shadows
Birds swinging on branch trapezes
The wind, lifting his story, embarking eighty years ago
whispers of the sentinel journey.
cobalt bottles strewn
porcelain pieces shattered
quartz glistening
Lifting his limbs, a sigh, then embraced by
the strength of the old nut bearer,
I'm guarded by green sleeves.
peanut shells in rafters
fields tilled and toiled
families, who've loved and lost
surrounding the two story house
Pieces found
under the pecan tree.
07/02/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem