Gramps

I went to see grandpa today.

He is flopped on the couch like a broken arm
Cracked, fading

Too ancient to speak.

We’ve never been close

But now he stares at me with eyes
like powdered feathers.

My aunt runs her finger through my curls.
She says I'm all grown up 
I wonder why she sounds surprised.

Gramp's utters a grunt of approval,
Voice like sandpaper on pearls.
It makes us laugh though.

His eyes linger, then.

And I become the best thing in the world.

The weight of silence roll down my shoulders.

But I don't do anything.
I sit and stare at my pale reflection in his brass tumbler.

And I suddenly wish I had cherished him, more

When he was still the ruddy old man

With a tan beret on his head
glaring into the distance and drinking strong tea. 

And it is the most heartbreaking thing I have ever known.

JULIE CHEN