Monday, February 9, 2015

Grandpa Cookie Knees

Grandpa Cookie Knees

In this life, 
Grandpa Cookie Knees gets out of that worn brown chair.
He holds a pencil,
and throws out those cumbersome blue pens 
the size of celery stalks.
He has no need for the pulley system in the kitchen 
where Grammie bathes him,
or the wooden ramps 
my curls bounced down when I was five.
In this life, he and Dad race motorcycles 
along Mountain Road,
he comes down South,
and maybe drums a little at my wedding.
In this life, his 1968 banana yellow Buick Skylark
is never mine,
because he’s behind the wheel.
It doesn’t sit in the garage for twenty years.
There is no football injury, no back pain,
no slip of the surgeon’s hand.
In this life,
the man who couldn’t feel 
my five year old fingers rub the Oreo cream 
on his worn, useless knees,
doesn’t laugh at the child who doesn't know 
it really isn’t funny.

No, in this life, he gets up out of that worn brown chair.



  1. So evocative. Makes me want to know more, and more....

  2. Love this beautiful depiction of a pain-free, fully-lived life for Grandpa Cookie Knees.