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.
|
| Writing Prompt |
An Ode is a poem praising and glorifying a person, place or thing. |
Author Notes
Ode to my Granddad and good friend. After all these years I still miss him. "Bill Carlile"
My granddad.
|
|
