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Title: We Both Wear Blue Jeans Post by: ahkil on October 13, 2007, 02:21:12 AM He leans on his dirty garden hoe,
I break the earth with mine. I am part of my Grandpa, who tucks his deformed thumb into his right pants pocket. "A bear got me," he claims. Mining muscles dance and curve around his arms. We work in Grandma's garden, roses mainly, enclosed by a fence to keep deer out. He stands on hardened ground, alfalfa strewn. Wind bends the field, weeds left and right. My guardian angel stands nearby. We both wear blue jeans. The sun shines down on the hilly country, plain and slowly seems to fiddle love and life between Grandpa and me in Fiddletown, his town, my heavenly getaway. And we commune, alone, sharing Heaven. |