Papa
His picture sits among my books
some of which for me he bought.
Down from the shelf he smiles, looks
with his eyes still full of thought.
The sudden loss of a man of steel
a grandpa so strong, so kind
Never has time felt so real
so suddenly certain in my mind.
Before, his days never seemed numbered
And so, neither did my own.
That naive belief has been cumbered,
I feel the beating beneath my collarbone.
The birds still fly, the winds still blow
He is gone, but I am not.
I will live the days he didn't get to know
Even if I feel I have a lot.
I know that he would wipe my tears
and ask that I go on bravely.
To continue on his unfinished years
with a light, and never gravely.
His picture sits among my books,
Some of which for me he bought.
I get up for him, for down he looks
and says, "She lives what I taught."