My grandfather's face is heavy with worry.
He sits on the piano bench in a room empty of sound.
Just breaths.
Breaths of me holding mine
Breaths of him releasing sighs
Breaths of my sister sleeping peacefully on the living room floor.

Heavy with worry,
He reminds me that times are hard snd people are dying. He can't take another phone call.
I watch him try to find answers in the carpet because my face reminds him of youth and possibility that is running out from so many.

Blues melodies are echoing in the kitchen,
Shrieks from an over eager two year old can be heard up stairs.
I have no answers, just prayer and love.
Grandpa don't worry.