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The porch was warm that summer night, Fireflies buzzing, swift and bright, a moment held in memory’s gentle sight~ the day still lives in me. My granddad’s laugh, a low, sweet roll, the kind that settled in my soul, a sound that made my childhood whole~ the day still lives in me. The scent of cedar in the air, his calloused hand smoothing my hair, a tenderness beyond earthly compare~ the day still lives in me. And though the years have slipped away, I feel that porch in every day, its quiet grace still lights my way~ the day still lives in me.
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