Grandpa rocks back and forth on the porch,
so slowly he seems asleep,
lulled by the purr of his son's diesel tractor
idling in the turn-around
beneath a broken old boxelder
that once shaded the horses
as they rested and drank after plowing.
Where the horses once slopped,
a thick patch of green grass
ringed the wooden trough,
now there stands a fuel barrel,
weeds splashed black beneath a leaky spigot.
Grandpa appears to be still dozing,
but he's out somewhere walking through his life.
I am retired after a working life of various kinds of physical labor. I currently volunteer as a writing tutor and as a naturalist and I am currently putting together the manuscript of my eighth book of poems. I live with my wife, dog and three cats near a large tamarack bog in St. Wendel Twp., Minnesota.