For My Grandfather (a good man who died this afternoon)
Your step back brings you forward, though I cannot be sure I am sure.
Just as your return to the shadow, dark as the cure, quiet as the dew, brings you light.
& while your only hands made gifts out of holy clay, I concede they were the clay too.
Once reborn. Once renewed.
Your bold voice now receding, gives your words a weight, grants them wings.
No longer caught up like a water drop on the tongue of a saint. You are more.
As if pain were a record, pressed & played. Smiled upon. Blessed, & kept away.
- all my love & respect, always, Oct. 28, 2010
