Night Watch
for Grandpa Eddie
Granddad’s slippers slap the hardwoods with purpose,
Rising and falling like a beaver’s tail
He walks the halls, opening and closing doors
Counts heads in bed
Watches chests rise and fall
Danger comes in the middle of the night
Sneaks up the back stairs
So he sits at his kitchen table in the North
Clad in a nightshirt and work pants and blackness
With a shotgun on his lap
Remembering the terror of the South
Ears pricked,
Dark orbs swaying like the swoosh of a cat’s tail
Argus-eyed
(c) Davita Joie 2016
This is powerful.
I love it.
Thank you!
Davita, this is so charming, and haunting. Well done.
Thanks, Jacob! We are reading each other’s work tonight. #kismet I’m overwhelmed so I’m picking one or two poets to focus on. I just adore your poetic voice.
Wow! Glad I found this vivid, moving poem.
Many thanks, Sheila. I enjoyed your work as well.
Love the timely reality of this piece Davita. Good job!
Goose bumps!
so quiet and tense
a sentry
a mousetrap ready.
PTSD
grandpa will never sleep safely because of the memories.
The quiet cleare details make the potential horror of the silent steps more chilling.
so quiet and tense
a sentry
a mousetrap ready.
PTSD
grandpa will never sleep safely because of the memories.
The quiet clear details make the potential horror of the silent steps more chilling.
Thanks for reading, Paul!