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Description
His dimpled cheeks,
carved like a candle's wick,
speak of decades;
and somewhere in the hallway
I can feel my grandfather's ghost
slip off the canvas.
You look like him
she says -
that Roman nose
off fighting wars
in places we can't pronounce
and your clipped jawline
announcing places
like long lost family.
I bet you wear a jacket like him,
shoulders crisp
as the new world
and focused like a poet
on the future.
I'll bet you even smell
like him -
leather warm and humid,

and the apple tint
of music
left on your sleeves.

Description
His dimpled cheeks,
carved like a candle's wick,
speak of decades;
and somewhere in the hallway
I can feel my grandfather's ghost
slip off the canvas.
You look like him
she says -
that Roman nose
off fighting wars
in places we can't pronounce
and your clipped jawline
announcing places
like long lost family.
I bet you wear a jacket like him,
shoulders crisp
as the new world
and focused like a poet
on the future.
I'll bet you even smell
like him -
leather warm and humid,

and the apple tint
of music
left on your sleeves.