Poetry by Jeff Green


“You’re losing chalks”

by cricketjeff on May 6, 2009.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

“You shouldn’t have joined”
echoes in my head
with a wicked grin.

Perfect advice for every occasion,
but perfect.

“Don’t have friends and don’t have relations”
bounces around,
as problems fall onto my lap.
Like you, I cannot follow through
cannot say no and turn away.

I feel your laughter,
how you grinned,
having finished your self-appointed share,
while younger men toiled on
to achieve less in longer.

“Is this the place?”
your call on arrival,
a gleam in your eye
to see your grandchildren;
sweets in your case, always more than
was good for us, always what was wanted.

A broader grin still,
triumph in your voice,
as you greeted my first son.
The first Green of a new generation.
You always knew, boy or girl,
and this one would be
the next Sam.

Then finally,
sitting by your bedside,
in another hospital
I saw so little light left.

I still cry that you aren’t here,
but I still talk to you,
still listen to you,
and it still only helps
because you make me laugh.

Cheers Grandad,
keep haunting me please.

Author notes

Option 1: For someone who died, my Grandfather.