Grandpa rolled with the wind
in his winged wheeled chair.
Wild frizzy gray hair
danced crazily
across his creased brow.
He stopped at my feet
and barely mouthed my name.
His chubby brown face
gracefully melted
into a frown.
He looked down
at his one whole leg
and sorrowfully rubbed
the other’s freshly stapled nub.
He shook his head,
and closed his green eyes
on my smile.
I caressed his palm
and fondled
the soft fingers
of his limp hand,
then felt the strength
of a fading man
warm my veins.
Shawn R. Jones
wonderful tribute!
Thank you : ) He was a fine man.