A couple of poems inspired by my grandfather.
Dance
The rituals we enact,
The gathering at the borders of white linen sheets
As the God dies
Are such calming dances,
Making our minds
Smooth as the water after ripples
From a thrown rock
Subside.
Fishing
The boat rocked,
Green slime
Covering the sides.
He fixed the tackle on my line
And I stood to cast,
Felt the whir of the clear plastic line
Sailing out, beyond the old man, my brother and myself
Past the old man crumbling
Past my brother packing up
Past me coming to this town,
Past the cities in the distance, ahead
And falling
Into a pool,
So calm,
So green/blue/transparent
Far from noise
And dusty smells.