I waited for my granddad to walk home from the bus stop. <br />It was very dark out, but I had my Girl Scout jackknife in my pocket. <br />He worked in a machine shop somewhere in South Boston. <br />His hands were so calloused from checking for stray burrs, <br />he had no feeling in his fingertips. <br />And he took my hand and told me how to oil my knife and keep it sharp. <br /> <br />My granddad waited for me to walk out in the garden after doing supper dishes. <br />The whippoorwills had started and it was getting cool out. <br />He showed me marigolds planted to keep the bugs away and extra lettuce, for the rabbits. <br />And he took my hand and told me the varieties of corn, peas, and squash. <br /> <br />I walk alone among the falling leaves to see the place he's lying. <br />This day is much too peaceful, this sky is much too sunny for how I feel. <br />There should be rain. <br />He would have liked these roses. <br />I used to pick the wild ones to put out on his nightstand. <br />And I wish he'd take my hand and tell me what to do. <br /> <br />(c) 1992<br /><br />Lynn Cohen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-waited-for-my-granddad/
