Grandfather

With a fragmented mind, I cut through the downy morning;

Soft like butter, the clouds parted so that I may see your face again.

There you stood in your audacious manner as you always would,

scowling my feebleness upon facing your finality.

You were never something I understood, remorse was never in your eyes.

My knees buckled, cracking the earth, how could you mock me?

I closed my eyes and you were gone,

leaving me with an outstretched hand, alone and dry in desolation.

Author notes

Title: Tree of Burden
Artist: Z. Beksinski

Lose yourself. by oceanbluize. 1600 points, ended November 27, 2008, 13 entries
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