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.
Not anymore.
Photo credit: Edward Hopper – Clamdigger
Vita Brevis Press. 
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!
Loved it.
A beautiful tribute to a grandparent gone but not forgotten.