Grandpa's Desk


His exit time had long since come and gone
Gramma said his number had been drawn
Sitting Indian-style upon her floor
I watched her slide open each file and drawer
He’d kept an hidden folder on each of us
Which one fibbed, whom he could trust
Which one preferred canned Mountain Dew
Who had snitched his last bottle of Yahoo
I uncrossed by legs, like a bird I perched
Peering over her shoulder, watching her search
I pretended not to notice the tears that strayed
When she found his calendar of remembered days
He’d penciled in the addresses for possible return
Her abrupt stillness caused me sudden concern
A barely detectable scent around us loomed
The attic air filled with another’s stale perfume
I had no option to hide my apparent surprise
She saw it in my face, the width of my eyes
Softly patting my hand, she acquiesced with her head
Her posture shrugged then grew stoic instead
What stayed in my memory, frozen in time
Was the strength of a lineage, I’d later find mine

Cathy O'Canna








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