Tuesday, September 7, 2010
My…a mile ‘til my grandfather’s house.
A sweet leaf on a tree.
A long fall in October.
A certain chill from a breeze crawls up my back.
That sensation of fervent distress…
My…a few steps to the front door.
Normally I’m greeted right away,
But the breeze is back as we pack his things.
I shudder at the thought I have.
Thinking to see him there waving…
I look at my filthy hands,
Dirty from the hole I dug for my heart.
I guess it’s all the moment I need
To return to doing my packing.
My…a wonderful service that was.
The pastor spoke clearly, articulately.
A sermon full of life and love.
My grandfather loved the service too…
Would have anyway…
My…a deep hole precedes.
A eulogy of magnitudes untold spoken
By his only daughter.
It was quiet, trying to remember how long it has been.
How long since I’ve seen him.
It’s never been like this.
He’s cold to my touch…
I somewhat frown.
He’s usually so full of vigor,
Eager to go, eager to do.
Eager to not lie like this…
I look out to see
A sweet leaf on a tree…
My My, a sweet leaf off the tree
A more valued sense of what life is to me.
A life, a love, an end.
Goodbye and farewell, my friend.