Grandfather

My toes are cold

My backside hurts

 

Christmas was four days ago

I have a candy cane in my bag to show for it

 

I’m sitting on a boat

We aren’t moving

 

I don’t know why

 

Between my feet is a backpack

It’s from fifth grade

It won’t stand upright

 

Inside the backpack

There’s a dark blue box

 

My dead grandfather’s inside the box

 

I sit, on this boat,

It has just begun to move

 

With my grandfathers ashes

In my ten year old purple backpack

 

The window’s foggy and wet

Like everywhere else in New England

 

I look between my feet

Where my grandfather rests comfortably

 

He’d probably be complaining right now

Had he a mouth

 

He’d be complaining that he’s cold

That his backside hurts

 

That the boat isn’t moving

He doesn’t know why

 

And that the window is foggy and wet

 

Just like everywhere else in New England.

 

Author's Note

My grandfather passed recently. This is my tribute to him.