Grandpa's Fire

This is how he taught me.

Awoken by the singing birds,
I crept downstairs in the dim light,
and there sat Grandpa, silently.
His presence like the Egypt Sphinx,
purring contently, not a sound,
with eyes staring around.

He spoke to me, "Have I ever
taught you how to build a fire?"
I'd say no and smile gently,
for he had, many times, taught me.
He'd teach and lead me to the end,
I loved the time we'd spend.

The wood set in place and ready,
he would then take my hand in his,
and we'd strike the match and create
a star. Our star. It would light up
the world for everyone to see.
This is how he taught me.

Grandpa would look at me with pride,
and then he'd whisper quietly,
"My you have really gotten good."
As if this had been one last chance
to take my hand in his and say,
"I love you every day."


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