The Fixer

“The Fixer” While clearing gutters of the autumn leaves I was pushed by a wintery stiff breeze Falling from ladder, by freak circumstance Crumpling into flatness by haphazard chance I felt a beer can directly under me Memory of him, forever would be For my Grandfather had tossed it there last Discovering it flat, from days past From bikes and cars, to rusty door nobs As to how to fix their thing-a-ma-bobs All would come for his consultations For he was the fixer, of all contraptions While others would tinker for hours into night Grandfather would always have the divine light Scarcely even did anyone ever say That Grandpa needed more time than a day He was a helper, a handyman, a friend Sadly he died of his drink, come the end