You don't really need me for Poetry Friday when you can just head over to The Writer's Almanac for poetry every day. I'm snatching today's selection from there.
I like it because it reminds me of my own grandfather. Jim. He, too, wore leather slippers and he, too, was meticulous in many ways. I like the quiet smile of this grandfather, and the unspoken connection described here. And I sympathize with the melancholy of the ending -- the fact that people leave us, that extended families have changed and that sometimes something is lost in the gains that come with technology.
by Ted McMahon
My grandfather got up early to section grapefruit.
I know because I got up quietly to watch.
He was tall. His hairless shins stuck out
below his bathrobe, down to leather slippers.
The house was quiet, sun just up, ticking of
the grandfather clock tall in the corner.
The grapefruit were always sectioned just so,
(Read the entire poem here.)