Submitted by Kenneth Garber
From Papa’s old armchair, from his weather-worn porch,
Time passes softly, gentle as all.
I could blink through the sunlight, but days may pass by.
I could nap in the moonlight, by months may slip past.
A reverie a decade; a dream something longer.
Tobacco and a breeze as bitter as his coffee.
A hearty laugh and skin as golden as his wheat.
Somewhere in it all, he’s still here.
Denim and callouses.
Somewhere in it all, it isn’t lost on me.
Photo credit: Edward Hopper – Clamdigger
I really like the ending of this. A coming together and connection.
Benny has sent us some fantastic poems in the past. We love his ambiguity and the impressive “conclusions” he pulls off in his last stanzas–always thought-provoking!
A beautiful tribute to a grandparent gone but not forgotten.