Grandpa, Come Back

A brown jacket
Weathered hands
Hair faded
Friendly glasses
We walk
He talks
On a hike
In the woods.
His arm around my back
Familiar leaves
Ground that I know
We walk up the trail,
He has a new place to show.
My problems dissolve
In those soft eyes
As he gives me advice.
The picture fades
Then all turns to black
I open my eyes
Grandpa, come back.

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