tattered heart

we used to laugh at how much
grandpa loved his tattered jacket
weathered and worn

he argued it had served him well
kept him warm on cold nights
though it had more holes
than the new golf course
outside the city

we laughed nonetheless

one gray day saw us
being left behind with images of him
reading in his chair
wrapped in his favorite jacket
and there we were,
grieving with tattered heart,
weathered and worn
more and more


written for mayfalls 24/31, “weathered and worn”
mayfalls is a Twitter poetry challenge hosted by @breath_words and @a_sea_of_words

© annie scribes 2017
all rights reserved


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