Forgetting Grandpa

No one talks about him anymore

Photo by Dominic Blignaut on Unsplash

The scent of rain reminds me of death-
the demise of a life.
The irony of it too harsh to think of.

The stolen days…
Regretful and melancholy.
I felt
it was too sudden.
Once so strong and tough-
unfairly defeated by the stroke.

Frail and brittle,
ultimately he left us
eternally
with too many questions
unanswered
and stories left
untold.

With not enough time
or memories to last
throughout my forlorn existence
he is slowly being
forgotten.