We drive out through the golden fields,
She drives her truck,
With the windows open,
We listen to country,
She sings off key,
But I don't care,
I'm singing off key with her,
We laugh,
We stop at a diner,
The waiter who calls me "hon" thinks we're cute together,
We share a milkshake,
It's strawberry,
I blow bubbles in it,
She giggles,
We go to a lake,
We swim with nothing on,
We get out and  and lie in the sand,
We gaze at the stars and make new constellations,
We see shooting stars **** bye,
We fell asleep together,
We wake up with the sun,
We get dressed and drive to work,

I remember you
I was just a young boy.
when mom died grandpa.
Your unshaven face and
brown hard working hands.

you fixed most everything with your hands.
You fixed me with your love Grandpa.
you gave me mom's old room
you told me it was her safe place
and she would visit me there.
When she was settled in heaven.

I told you I did not believe
in heaven Grandpa.
You said it's alright I will one day.
Heaven was a different place
for everyone you said.

When I got hurt
you always picked me up
in your huge arms grandpa.
it was always so safe.

I never told you grandpa
I lied when I said
I don't believe in heaven.
You and grandma
were my heaven Grandpa.

I know you have gone now
to your heaven.
Sat in a kitchen eating food
from the old country.
Grandma is at the stove
Mom on your knee listening
to stories of Europe before the war.

My heaven was with you guys grandpa.
I think I will change my heaven
to yours after all Grandpa.
That's all I want
just our heaven.
I only wish there was a post office
in our heaven
and I could send
this letter to you all.

You Loving Grandson
Jude

His eyes squinted
carefully scanning
three hazy photos
taken in black and white
undated of two mountains
rising behind a bridge
crossing a river

Was it France?
Arizona, Dakota
Probably not Dakota
Few hills there
Maybe along the Danube
Yet no signs of vineyards
along the river banks

Travel broadens one
with indistinct memories
Places that inspired
yesterday and today
remain as slight fabrics
and experiences
absorbed and fuzzy
resting in a corner
of his mind

Only two more hours of work
on this rainy Thursday afternoon,
and with each step I take
I check the clock
and between my heavy breathing
I mutter to myself with a smile:
"today can't escape tomorrow."

...

Sunday morning and we eat like royalty,
I'm all smiles and her eyes are all over me
and with these empty plates between us
I tell her I don't want this day to end,
and as a longing grin shows on her lips
she so eloquently says
"but today can't escape tomorrow."