from ten paces down the dewy grassy yard
i see my true grandfather poised
as if he was resting, wide-eyed...
scrupulous, centered..
waiting for the glory train,
to bring him
to another inner world
in winter he turns away
from even the fading light
and sleeps in, tummy widening
from over-imbibing on dried fruits, nuts and leaves...
while in summer, there's so much to do:
drying fruits, flowers and bark
for the descent in late november
his thanks giving, celebrated
with church mice, bear and possum
their eyes being the only bright lights
underneath the deepest snowy earth
as joy peeps through, and lasts
until the sweet ascent in spring
Kate Lamberg
7/21/13 (c) all rights reserved
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