grandfather kept bananas
in his closet
because, doctors told him
they cured sadness
out in the yard
the gum trees produced
spiky balls one could throw at another
without doing any real damage
bibles were kept in wine boxes
the wardrobe held a smart suit
my grandmother, not drunk
would sit me on her lap
and pop my knuckles and laugh
(the real cure to sadness)
the t.v. had ears on top
that were strong enough to televise
a moon shot.
there was a darkness
even in summer in the house
outside beneath the great elm
where ghosts would appear
in the broad daylight
locust shells would dot the ground
hollow death beds for insects
in the summer heat
once I stood on the beach
with my grandfather
the ocean big and blue with whitecaps
the waves crashed to our toes
he was in Bermudas and had a tan
his face deeply wrinkled
I thought he was bigger than the sea.
though boyhood dreams
turned to the world of men
and stories were whispered
that destroyed a man,
I found I still loved that man from
so long ago beneath the broad elm tree.
No comments:
Post a Comment