How alone is a dead man-
We see his scarred hands
And think life is difficult-
His sagging mouth can't explain
Or tell jokes
Or kiss grief away-
His feet can't walk to her side
And hold him steady
For her weakened body
What fortune does death provide-
Some courage maybe
Or another memory to forget
And then remember
On selfish, solitary evenings-
I miss my grandfathers
Because they lived long
And made beautiful mistakes
And grew forgiveness in their gardens
No comments:
Post a Comment