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Grandpa's Fedora, a poem by Marcia Schechinger, USA
Angel Poems & Grandparents, Grandmother, Grandfather Poetry
Marcia Schechinger, USA
Grandpa's Fedora
With sweaty fingertips a candle flickerswavering to eerie sounds of summer's warm unfoldingI can hear each creak of hollow wood floors that contoured my pastMoonlight tricklespeeking through termite infested wallsa singular cloud looms a pattern of silvermuch like grandpa's hairGuts of a tractor tear at my fleshand time withdrawsI rise to grip crusty rough handsamputated legs stand whole before meeyes, once curtained, sparkle with green hueIn whispering wind I hear grandpa sigh, go away child this is no place for youI extend back, dazed, toward a splintered doorvisualizing young men playing pitch in celestial robeswondering what became of their Sunday hatswhen they died
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