I can still see him,
walking through the field,
Checking his crop,
Hoping for a yield.

His loose bibbed overalls,
two inches above his heels.
"I ain't worried about looks,
Just how it feels."

He always looked like
He hadn't shaved in a week,
The chaw in his mouth
Made a lump in his cheek.

His brown shoes
Were bought years ago,
His straw hat
Was frayed and old.

He was tall and thin
With a very long stride.
I had to run,
To stay by his side.

He was my Granddad,
my good friend.
I was with him,
right up to the end.