An Ode To The Grandfather Poem by Dorothy (Alves) Holmes

The grandfather lies still,
With blue antennas attached
To a breathing pump,
His life line,
As he has forgotten he must breath
To survive.
So the blue antenna,
An adequate substitute
With its octopus arms,
Reminds us time is fleeting...
The breathing pump
Makes soushing sounds,
Up!
Down!
His one free hand makes a lump
Under his sterile white sheet,
The bed so neat.
We prod him on to silent speech
Rub his head, his one free hand,
Carress his face,
Hoping to erace the sadness from his eyes,
He thinks we lie.
Mama has been here and is fine...
We repeat the line,
He thinks we lie.
We supply laughter and tidbits of today's events
To circumvent
His plight,
We plead
Fight!
The grandfather smiles
Raises his hand
To throw a kiss,
Mama's been here,
We insist.
He smiles.
This time he remembers her soft
Voice calling his name,
Joshua!
Joshua!
We speak now, above
The lumps caught in our throats.
See you tomorrow,
Oh, by the way, we have a message
For you, from the children,
Tell the grandfather we love him...


April 25,1986