My Grandpa

Grandpa can´t remember when we came to Sweden
He don´t exactly know which place it was
Are we German? ( I dream of Habsburg )
Or were we Slavic

Anyhow, I got a fist
I got another kind of whisper
I talk of blood and ancestry ( silly? Perhaps!)

I feel I got something to teach the Swedish people
Hey, watch out! I can teach the entire world
( what some things really mean )

Ma was very proud and knew what she wanted
Grandpa was a true gentleman
Dad adored him
He run his own business

And his very very black hair?
And his metallic eyes?
Why should they notice
To the world he was Swedish
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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