Thursday, June 25, 2015

Being Grand

Every day
I see him
Running after her-

Sometimes tall -
Generations taller than her
His gait enveloped in tireless history
Of which she knows nothing

Sometimes crouched -
As she waddles on
Her new found upright legs
She's still learning to trust them
It's irrelevant
She trusts the man
Calling her towards him
Arms outstretched
Eye twinkle beckoning
In the way a grandpa can.

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