For my grandfather

My grandfather
passed on
when I was
Eleven years old,
An insominac,I stayed awake
playing in nocturne,
Long enough that night,
that
I Heard the phone ring,
then heard my father's crying
As he shook,
he told me, in my stillness,
that everything would be
Alright
A week later
we burned his body,
then took it to the
Ocean
said that once he was
free to leave his body
he was freeto clear the land
And I stared
out the window
of my grandfather's big American truck
at someone's hands
holding the plain cardboard box
which contained his ashes
-My mother turned to meand whispered
"We don't amount to much
In the end"

Willie Nelson was playing
On the radio
as my grandmother cried

Even then,
Just a child,I understood that death
Was a multi-faceted
and unifying experience,
That it was not simply
death instead of dreaming,
Asleep or awake-
And when a woman friend of the family,
Pulled me aside
to tell me that my
"grandpa was in a better place,now"
Something in her voice,
I knew she didn't wholly
Believe it was true,
that she was scared too,
As she watched my father
pour his father
into the sea...Amen
-2:28pm sept 12th