Elbows and Knees
I cried at the sight
Of you frail
Unaware of
My presence-
Chose to remember
Different images
On that day-
Tall and lanky
Uncanny ability
To sit comfortably
On your haunches
Elbows perched
On knees
Backside inches
From the ground-
My college senior
Piano recital
Me in my black dress
You in your blue
Cotton shirt and pants
Both beaming-
Five years later
Christmastime
My newborn son
Sleeping in your arms-
After you were gone
I saw your reflection
As my son sat
On his haunches
Elbows perched
On knees
Backside inches
From the ground-
Pictures of you
Held dear,
Grandpa
Workshirt
The morning
Is dark blue
The kind of blue
That almost
Looks black
But once
The sun rises
Turns to cerulean-
As the day
Progresses
The sky shifts
Until night washes
Over the work
Of the day
Bringing rest
To the Earth-
And rest to you
Handsome you
Strong you
Wearing your
Favorite blue shirt
Faded with time
As the dirt
And sweat
From a lifetime
Of hard work
Was washed away
I wrote the first poem specifically about my Grandpa Crow. He was a sweet man. Hardworking and loved to fish. The second could describe many different people from my growing up years. Maybe you can relate. 😊❤️
Piano Girl 
Both are exquisite — poignant, soft, warm and endaring.
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Thank you, Louise. ❤️
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Yes, I can definitely relate! And I can conjure up my Aunt Mary Beth in all except the sitting on haunches. She was almost always wearing blue-checked dresses – a closet full of them! Hands almost always soiled from the garden or tending the pigs or chickens.
Thank you for the evocative lyrics. Your grandpa must be grinning down.
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You’re welcome! And thank you for sharing your memories! 💙
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Both poems touch my heart .. my dad too dressed in blue to go to work …
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Thank you, Ivor. I’m so glad. 💙
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Yes .. many treasured memories ❤
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I CAN relate, despite ever knowing only one of my four grandparents. I’ve been lucky enough to have such loved ones as you’ve described so beautifully here. Awesome memoportraiture. Thank yu.
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Thank you, Ron. I’m so glad you can relate. ❤️ I seem to be thinking a lot about people from my past lately.
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absolutely beautiful: poems are always stronger when written about someone specific —
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Thank you, John. 😊
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Poignantly beautiful…
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Thank you. ☺️
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