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just a hole
by Charlie Morganmy grandson, at 3, is a teacher of perspective:
he's taught me how to be afraid of a roly poly bug.
and he's taught me too, not to worry about the storm.
he spies a rust-frosted saw blade. one section like a pie slice
or a valentine, long since gone. buried out back in the red, red dirt.
and awaiting the wind, rain, sun, moon: all are it's caretakers.
PaPaw, what's dis? what's dis Papaw? as he points crookedly
to a hole [he mean's: what lives in that hole.]
i say lizards, they've been living in a hole since then.
they'll move later-on but for now lizards are captive
in the patio net; captured by their hunger, greed.
munching most of the day, picking flies from their teeth.
06/04/2009 Posted on 06/04/2009
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Sarah Wolf on 06/04/09 at 01:35 PM I am glad you are enjoying your grandson... very nice. |
| Posted by Kris Mara on 06/04/09 at 01:56 PM it's funny the things they make us notice or think about -- often in new ways -- from their perspective, as you say...reading of your grandson always brightens my day, so thanks for sharing a bit of his light with us. |
| Posted by Maude Curtis on 06/04/09 at 02:27 PM Ah Charlie, Grandchildren they are the joy of old age cause they make you feel young again. What other kind of love can there be than to be idolized by a child. Give Kai a hug for me. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 06/04/09 at 03:13 PM I can't wait until Atreyu is old enough to ask. But I don't know if I'll be able to keep up with his questions the way you do! Can you give me lessons? |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 06/04/09 at 03:43 PM "A teacher of perspective."--I like that a lot. Heh. Brilliant, as per usual. |
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