He reminds me of magic -
child's eyes; quick, wise, fearful eyes
swallowed by folds on folds of time
How old he looks
the man with the child in his eyes
"Take my strength, Grampa"
a squeeze
he knows I'm here
and a river of
love strength frustration
travels up
down
my
our
arms
like an electric current.
Some ghosts photographs leave smiles on my mind
hugs like big, warm, heavy blankets
safe in Grampa's arms
still a little girl
if I could take off this damn mask I could make him smile
Sliding down a razor blade in slow motion
A monster that eats you up from the inside
is scarier
than any
hiding under my bed
shakes
shivers
timbers fall
even the strongest of old oak trees