Monday, April 27, 2009

Growing out of youth,
accustomed to clap,
clapping to the left, right.
All together we learn this path paved.
Learn the crease of your step,
while racing on knees to grasp
your subtle wisdom (a melody in each breath).
The tissue full of vitamins,
our only needed supplement.

Quiet reminder to whistle while you walk,
lend an ear to the bird's call.
Memory clenched,
finding the harmony of good in the absurd.

I have found memories of Ninas
in each flower's bloom.
Grandpa, you are
my seven letter word.

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