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through them, i live on
by Charlie Morgana container of empty toys, books, books, books;
a true to life Indian carpet holds sway and swain
all their ounces of weight, pences of knowledge
about this existing world and his coming world.
keeping them strewn, displaced, on purpose,but
still a momentary monument to my grandson Kai;
he lives in my every lonesome, grinning thought
and fills my heart with every sonorous beat.
a tile floor of strewn toys is a present; gift
from the Lord above, mine to keep ever-alive
in my life's measure, my care; my very life
extended to the tomorrows of his yesterday.
three unknown figures ferret through aisles
of American Airlines, headed to LaGuardia,
New York, the Big Apple; the vigilant keeper
of my life in three generations, extended. 08/07/2008 Posted on 08/07/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 08/07/08 at 05:30 PM I just love the telling of your grandpa-hood. It's so precious, and how we don't take these little ones for granted, once-removed from the business (busy-ness) of raising a child. You capture the magic, and give it again as a gift in your poems. |
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