Missing Grandpa

The funeral had been strange No one knew grandpa the way we did My cousin and I rolled our eyes Trying to be aloof and grown We were eighteen In the evening we began to speak of him He had a quirky walk, and a donkey bray laugh We agreed we would miss these things He had told my cousin about the Big Dipper He had told me about the hybrid corn We traded thoughts, remembering his eyes And his laugh, and his charming little hop-step I broke down first, then my cousin. We would never see our grandpa again. We held on to each other and just breathed. Written 8-17-2021 Contest: As We Breathed Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker