This morning, as the green fades to gold,
I think Grandparents are put here
To leave us behind.

How do we love them
So long and without fear?

So alone now we stand
Nothing between us and that black door
But a memory of a wrinkled hand.

I dream he’s still here
With twinkling eyes
And that chest-shaking laugh.

But he’s gone into shadow
And I stand waiting
Words like tears running from my fingers.

But in this waiting
Something stirs deep
Beneath the leaves from other summers.

After its feathers fall
Summer is reborn
Like a flaming phoenix.

So shall we all
When we have faced the black door
And entered alone.


sheri3Sheri Yutzy loves to write words that illuminate the longings of the world.

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