Evoking a Memory - A Lament for my Grandfather

Evoking a Memory -
A Lament for my Grandfather

1.
He buried my bird.
The bird I had found, its wing dangling and useless-
the bird I couldn’t save.

I held the cold, stiff body against my chest-
he prepared the grave.
The shovel, crusted with dirt, grated and clattered against stones.

Satisfied with the depth of the hole, he pried the bird from my fingers-
cupped it in his work-worn hands.
Those large hands that had birthed cows and slaughtered them, too.

From his pocket, he took a crumpled white handkerchief-
wrapped the body in it before gently putting it into the ground.
he never said it was just a starling

Tenderly, as if it were a seedling easily crushed,
he covered it with soil.
no minimizing the enormity of this death

I buried my face in his belly and wept.
His hand stroked my head-
cleansed me of the weight of my failure.

2.
The wind was never more cold the day of your funeral.
I hid my grief under a mantle of empty silence.
Half forgotten memories and the weight of your simple words-
a caress.

How is it you were as comfortable with death as with life-
you who knew how to listen to the sun-motes dancing through the seasons.
For what expectations did you leave?

I will be years hearing your voice,
watching you work the soil-
waiting for the first buds of life to unfold in my garden.

-Kelly King