He were alive just
one month ago in
voice and skin spotted with
age and soft. In eyeglasses
and wristwatch, and
small neat hands to grab you in hello.
In flag pin worn in his lapel.
In teeth resting in a cup next to the bed,
in full head of sliver hair, in unshaven whiskers on his
chinny chin chin. On the weary look on his face,
and his watery blue eyes; his partched lips
drinking from a straw, or sucking on ice chips.
In his laugh, and a kiss
from his sweet ole daddy lips.
--lw 9/6/08
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