Cursing Stone
Banjoes picked through Kentucky blue
grass twenty-two inches long
awaiting a gurgle of life
blood, and you appeared at sunset.
Eighty-two years from a body
lasting is my love for you every
day broke on the day I became
life tears me up after your
death brings me here shattered
breath I succor from fettered
souls who watch me watch
you had a birthday today.
I grieve and curse your card
Grandpa.
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