Time…
Sitting poolside as you and your Grandma separated by
60 years talk about nothing.
Time…
Enjoying the simplicity of a blackberry melting
on a dehydrated tongue as the sun pours into pale winter skin.
Walking around a
tiny charming lake town in central Florida and stumbling on a halfway decent
band and a packed patio.
Seeing a red-winged hawk in flight.
Heck,
seeing any bird in flight.
Opening an envelope and finding a transcript of an
interview between my 16-year-old self and my grandpa in the sky.
Reading it.
Crying.
Time...
You looking up at me with big half brown half hazel eyes and saying "I'm so happy. This makes me so happy."
The way you look positioned next to one of the smartest men the world will know.
And then curled up
beside the most tender teacher heart for just one more story.
Just.
One.
More.
Story.
Time.
We’ll never get it back.
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