Grits

For Andrew Fitzgerald

My Grandfather traveled
Around this world twice over
One time with a gun
Both times with a horn
In those times he learned
How bright the sunsets can be
And how death can take the breath
Of a man you bunked with

From Guam and Germany
To New Orleans and Hoboken
Theaters of war
To speakeasies
Sweating, chaotic

Learning how music can be a life in itself
His life married to it
And my loving grandmother
Whose scent of sun lotion kisses
Would follow me
Even after a jump in the pool
I then shivered out
Dripped inside and sat with this gentle man
And shared two things
Never to be forgotten

One learned in his travels
A wonderful bowl of grits
One he always had
Love
The size of the world, twice over

12.11.99 20:53