Grandparents Poem by Julian Takali

Every weekend I visit my grandparents

They are old and feeble and fragile
I cherish them

As their clock is ticking for the last time
I love them

As I will not be able to any longer

My grandfather is disease ridden and cannot speak
He loves me
He angers me
My grandmother is a blossomed flower that only knows the language of sincearity

Their dog is gold and growing old
Who will feed her when their wave crashes?
I will
I love my grandparents

Step inside their dungeon of kindness and be sprinkled and showered by tender aromas

Their elder tales, crackly laughter, attention deficit disorder
But thats just fine, its a part of life and getting older

My heart rarely acknowledges love
As I am a recluse
But these two will lie on the delicate matress of my heart
And when they do depart
Maybe to others they will dissapear and be forgotten

but to me
they wont be very far