Blue

I remember when I sat and listened to your stories about your life journeys.

I can still see you coming in your khaki pants.

Your legs could hardly get you around.

You were like a tough old mule.

I can still remember when we used to go fishing in Mr. Vernon’s pond on Saturday afternoons.

You were always an honest man.

You always wore a Dickies button-up shirt.

Sometimes I wish you were still here.

You always laughed like a kid.

You used to love to hunt with old Browny.

At the end your walk was weary.

You loved to smell the jasmine in Mamaw’s garden.

You’ve been through a lot since December 21, 1912.

Your life could have been a book.

Your old blue eyes saw more than ten men would see in a lifetime.

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My son, Dylan, wrote this poem last year for English III. It is about his memories of his papaw, who passed away in December 2005.