Portrait of Your Grandfather, Dying

We will label it kidney failure or lung disease,
but feel the swelling notion that he
is not leaving us, but joining her--

whose ashes answer his prayers at night from the bedside table where he props his cane,
who framed the corner of his lips with the word “happy,”
who gently takes the paintbrush and colors him home.

He raged with war,
he created love.
He is ripe for heaven.
Can you see it?

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