For Grandfather

If only you could be a memory to me
But I never knew you and you never knew me
You've hovered about me these past 32 years
Protector
Guide
I ask about you and wonder how close we
Could have been
And still are, in an astral sense
You never shuffle along in my mind's eye
You are always strong and gritty, with work-calloused hands
And a mind to rival the greatest of thinkers
You look about 40 and don a green coat
And brown worn boots, and you like to
Wear a dress shirt on Sundays
Momma says you painted and I would hold your picture
Of a dog that burst out of the oil and came alive on canvas
It's the artist deep within me that you could have loved so well
The one that drew gazelles from the age of 2
And filled in the manes of winged unicorns
And made the green rabbit for Hank who felt like a surrogate for you
Even though he was technically an in-law cousin
Momma says you would have loved me so
And we would have enjoyed the rays of sun while laughing
And we would have enjoyed the beams of silver moon while catching fireflies
But their lights die
Just as you did
Long before I ever got a chance to hold your hand
And missing you is like missing those lights
One day you, too, will return in summer to greet me