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I SAT BESIDE MY GRANDFATHER

I sat beside my grandfather

On his deathbed

His mind wild

Hands lose

Stitching a bag

Yoking the horse and cart

Going to the bog

Calling the neighbours

Giving a day at the hay

On a football field

Asking for a pas

 

Stillness followed

A long silence

Then the conversation with my grandmother

Past years before

Of routine matters

Making the reunion

Getting ready to go to her.

Published
Categorized as Poems

By timmyconway

poet

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