My Grandfather

His skin is leathery and brown,
And his hands are coarse,
From many years of hard labor.
Once he served in the U.S. navy.
He spent weeks away from home,
Building bridges and roads.
I remember spending hours in his garden.
Side by side we planted seeds,
Life’s lessons being learned in the dirt,
Digging holes and picking vegetables.
Time didn’t slow down.
Now he sits on the couch,
Old and gray.
His steps are unsteady,
As his body starts to wear down.
Yet, he is still the man who played with me,
When I was a child.
©Rachel Ruppel 2006

Back