Unboarded for summer
June bugs thumb heavily
Against rusted screens at night
Cigar clamped in his unshaved smile
Cocktail nearby
Eyes the color of sea foam
His right hand pets a melody
While the left strides
Between chord comp and bass line
From a never-tuned piano
Whispering, Stardust, and Blue Hawaii
Drift nightward like spirits
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This poem is about my grandfather, Harold Elijah Macholdt. He was a complex human, by all accounts. He was not a good husband (at least, not on the first try); he got mixed reviews as a father; but I thought he was a pretty good grandfather. I knew that he loved me, and I believe he knew that I loved him.
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