Father of My Father
You came to see me today
Only it wasn't you
He stood still looking at me
Staring into my soul
Neither of us speaking
I could see you in him
The way his suspenders rested on his shoulders
Shoe worn from wear
Belly hard and round from years of good eating
So silent we stood and then I smiled
The familiar stranger smiled and nodded in return
He turned and shuffled away
Thanks for coming to see me grandpa
I miss you
Copyright © Monica Evette | Year Posted 2010
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