Friday, December 09, 2005

Poetry Break: "Epitaph" (ca. 1987)


To grandpa,
my companion,
who sang when I was young
and patted my head till I slept,
I now return the song
and touch the earth
where you sleep.


At 7:56 AM, Blogger James Brush said...


At 9:46 AM, Blogger Horace Jeffery Hodges said...

Thanks, James.

At 11:29 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Coincidentally(?) Mark Goodacre blogged today - his epitaph is apparently going to be something like the Jedi Knight of bloggers ... or bibliobloggers, can't remember which.

Happy Birthday Mr Milton!

At 4:02 PM, Blogger Kate Marie said...

That's really lovely.

At 4:29 PM, Blogger Horace Jeffery Hodges said...

Steph, thanks for the heads-up -- on Mark and on Milton. I really ought to attempt to remember Milton's birthday . . . but my brain is full.

Thanks Kate Marie. I suppose the poem sounds nicer than the tongue-in-cheek 'potty mouth' stuff that I posted on your blog.

At 3:56 AM, Blogger Kate Marie said...

Well, yes, it's nicer, but I like your "potty mouth" persona, too!

At 8:33 AM, Blogger Horace Jeffery Hodges said...

"All of me, why not take all of me..."

Why not? Because the 'Potty Mouth' is included.

Without batteries.

To be assembled.

Using Japanese directions.

At 9:53 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thank you Jeff. I recall something I once wrote:

The Walker

Time well spent
On the road to town
The Walker wore
his felt hat and his aged shoes
on his old feet.
His breath smelled of
Pall Malls and his fingers
were yellowed.
The Walker bore on
On his walk to town.
He cocked his head and
looked down at me.
His watery eyes saw something
that made him smile
He reached down and took my hand
On our walk to town.

-Pat (OJF)

At 5:16 PM, Blogger Horace Jeffery Hodges said...

Pat, that sounds like a nice memory. I recall walking with grandpa to town but nothing quite so vivid as your walk.

My most vivid memory of a walk to town with grandpa was the time the creek flooded our entire backyard. Grandpa took me to town, where I saw the water threatening to flood the high bridge there.

Very exciting and adventurous, I thought, but I was only five . . . if I recall.


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