Submission for Writing Club Today

Here is what I'm reading at Writing Club today.

I originally wrote this in 1993, shortly before my grandfather died at the age of 94. He was a wonderful man. Just exactly what you think of when you think, "grandfather.".

I had spent an evening with him in the hospital three months prior to his death and when I came home I just knew that I had experienced my last real time with him. I jotted down some thoughts in diary form and the words kept drawing me back until I sat and reconstructed them into a poem. I've made a few changes every time I read it, but this is basically true to the original essence.

My ode to my grandfather -

Curled, childlike

with hand under head

and by chin

he dozed.

the sterile white conditions

and interruptive beeps and buzzes

causing him restless sleep.

he awoke and would smile

 and with familiar voice

would tell of his past,

his memory better than his present.

his frail exterior did not portray the interior

only his words could reveal.

he shared the  pieces

to allow the discovery of the route

he had taken.

his tales were woven with

 generosity,

mistakes,

and love.

he was offering a final gift,

a chance to touch his life,

giving a permanency to our souls.