Eight days after your 85th birthday
The next time
I see you
I imagine
holding onto your hand
like the last time
you left
the way
the morning
gathered itself
with your soul
before leaving
I watched
as you were
lifted onto a gurney
your body
folded into plastic
and zipped
into a bag
My mother and I
stood in the middle
of the room
with our arms
around one another
as we let you go
We watched
as you were
carried away
I remember
the room feeling empty
but imagining
your breath
still drifting
in the air
I believe
you are somewhere
as undisturbed
as that quietness
I want to believe
you are somewhere
as peaceful
as the way
you left
There is stillness
in every silence
and I heard
that you passed away
without making
a sound
Rest in Peace grandpa
