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Tamara Burda

 

My Grandfather
by Tamara Silvia Burda

He smiles at me
Sits on the couch
Just sitting and watching
Whatever I do

He falls asleep
He always does
In front of the TV
I hear him snore

I love to crawl
On his belly
Then slide down it and laugh
He never minds

But all of this is just a dream
All of it has never been
It only happened in my head
Before I was born he was dead

Dear Grandfather,

All I ever got from you
Is stories – wrong or true
The way you really were
Is left for me to infer
You’ll always be one of my dreams
And so it seems
That all I can do
Is imagine you

The sound of your voice
The way you snore
Your caring eyes
The smile on your face