Democrat, Illinois - The ElectroLounge

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Memories of Grandfather
An older bridge
in quieter times.
April’s gray ice
snagging then crashing
in the falling of waters.
Grandfather’s pale pink flesh
in a pale yellow shirt
smelling of cigars and cologne,
sweat and aging.
He takes you by the hand
over ill-spaced planks
pulling you, terrified, along,
because the river’s white snarl
will suck you under
if you look too long and hard.
An older man
in quieter times
crossing a bridge
with his grandson.
An undying Sunday afternoon
soothing the crush of the milltown.
The workers now drinkers
ringing the heavy oak tables
of the Franco-Belgian Club,
and among the beer,
cards, smoke, and laughter
a six year-old boy
sipping cream soda with a straw,
thinking happily to himself—
“so this is what old men do.”
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