Stolen Little Things

Your granddaughter

She has learned to tie her shoes since you have been gone.

Sings around the house to music I do not identify with,

dances to Frederic Chopin,

tells me she loves me

as unconditionally as you had loved me.

Grandpa, you have been robbed of these years

down to the paltriest seconds

of after-school pickups

and botched auditions.

You are missing out on so much of so many

little things.

Your daughter

My pulse has lost its rhythm since you have been gone.

Find myself whistling when I back out of parking spaces

and guessing arrival times when coming home from long road trips.

Took your kidnapping to remember

how much of you I am.

Father, there must’ve been thieves in the attic

that morning our heart’s beat was stolen.

You had once told me you could help me with my poetry.

Neither one of us could’ve known it’d be in this way.

I am missing out on so much of so many

little things.

IG: @daydreamifications

4/1/14