April 2: Poem 2

Sometimes

I look at the moon
and think
my grandfather looked at the same moon
and he 

broke dirt with a shovel
for a church that is still standing

(he came to me in a dream once

but it was not a dream)

and once walked through the plazas of Munich
sending my mom a postcard

written in a formal script

saying love, dad
like he wasn't sure how to say that

and I feel
a little better.

Notes

Not sure where this one came from. I sat down and started writing. Okay then. That got personal quick.