Grandpa's Slumber

 


Just a poem reminiscing about the summer of 2022, when my grandpa made his first trip to Canada all the way from Vietnam to visit my family. I will always remember how he was in awe of everything around him - the lush fields on Lulu Island, the cool in, and the grass carpet behind our backyard. The poem is now published on ink magazine 2023, my fourth and last contribution to the magazine since 2020. 

My grandpa sleeps on the ivory-colored couch

After a long flight from Vietnam.


It’s a summer midafternoon,

The day is crisp-yellow, soaked with the honey sun through the emerald foliage.


Grandpa reclines on the backrest, where

The creases of age reflect into his eyes.


His breathing becomes synchronized

With the wavering of breezes and the rustle of the leaves.


Just as the pinkness of dusk is about to fade, when the cumulous clouds scatter

Further than the withered rose petals on the front yard


Grandpa wakes up and beams, the crinkles in his eyes

Shine as he contemplates


That he loves how the day here lasts longer,

As if time rebounds forever.


I smile while scooping a spoonful of citron jam,

Which shimmers like condensed sunlight


And put it in a steaming cup of tea

Which Grandpa sips with glee.

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