My grandfather has fallen
asleep with a paperback
in his lap, hands
braided, glasses
on — and I watch
his reflection from the bathroom
mirror where someone has
left a stick of deodorant
by the sink that says
Sure,
and I am 10
if it’s 1980
and I think the same about
him — sure — he’ll be
gone one day,
but looks so content
I want to remember him
this way, always.
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Categories: poetry
Bill Pearse 
There was a Freshly Pressed post the other day (I rarely read FP posts; who does?) from a poetry editor who was moaning about poem subjects. Please, he said, do not submit poems about the ocean, love or death unless you have something absolutely new to say.
I bet he doesn’t get too many deodorant poems.
Joshing aside, I like this moment, especially the idea of watching via the mirror.
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What, no love, ocean, or death? And the pressure to say something new? Why? I had a full moon thing in here, a sunset, and allusions to heroin addiction first but then took them all out, thinking the same. Nothing new to say. What’s so great about new?
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I forgot about clouds. Did they say anything about clouds? We have clouds now again and I want to write about clouds but now I’m concerned. Can you send me the contact information, if they have a number or something?
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Like some kind of help line? Here’s the piece- https://oyezreview.wordpress.com/2015/06/30/well-never-tell-you-what-to-write-about-but/#comment-2541
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I effed up, I think
https://oyezreview.wordpress.com/2015/06/30/well-never-tell-you-what-to-write-about-but/
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I’m going to guess the paperback he was reading was a Louis L’Amour. Really nice images.
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Yeah, that’s awesome Jon – why not, Louis L’Amour? I can see that. Thank you, I’m glad you liked it. Colors are fading on my Polaroids, you know?
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Nice image. I like. I saw the book as a small, faded hardcover. No dust jacket, kind of weathered, and green.
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That’s cool, thanks Walt. Me likes.
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That’s my memories of my grandpa too. The only difference is that he loathed paperbacks and loved Shakespeare and fine art. He would sit in his favorite chair, soaking in the sun and the words in the book.
Thanks for this poem.
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Beautiful, thanks for sharing – makes it more real that way. You’re welcome and thank you too.
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What a wonderful, real life way to remember him.
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Thank you Elyse, so glad you liked it. Enjoy your evening.
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what a great snapshot, of a man, and a moment frozen in time.
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Thanks Beth.
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