A Life in Five Parts

Abstract

Pine Garden/ When my grandfather sits among the stones/ he placed close to pine seedlings in 1914,/ memories of his first years with grandma/ fall over his heavy brows./ His dreams/ kept deep in facial lines, touch what heart/ there is left inside./ And the old brown belt/ seems higher today than it was a year ago;/ he is sinking into the front of his pants/ like other old men./ The straw hat,/ straight-brimmed, has become too large/ for the head like a grey peach; it is/ older than these trees./ The wind/ bends his pine to fit the curve of his back./ In the long shadows we cast across/ crushed rocks, it appears that we touch.