22 November 2007, 11:32 AM
Fifteen years ago,
we gathered at your table for a feast
we’d anticipated days on end beforehand.
I find myself relieved to have
a memory I don’t regret, one I’d go back to
if I could, for just a moment, to ask you
if granddad’s stories are true- the ones
he tells about how he lost his finger-
and to help you make yeast rolls
while the boys play football on the lawn
in the south Texas autumn.
Makes it hard at times to celebrate the day
any other way, remembering now
that you’re gone.