One More Knot

He looks so pale and stiff
Could be stone alabaster
For all I know
This old worn photograph
It doesn't tell much
Yet he does look a bit old
I guess around the right age
Ya know the time we usually go
I never knew him
Yet I know he had to be
My mother can testify
To his existence
One more knot
On the family tree
It seems a bit odd
That the only picture
Was his last
Lying there in his coffin
I can see why the Indians
Ran from the flash
There's no life there
Its all been washed away
It's just to damn bad
For I wonder
What he would have to say
I never knew my other grandpa
No photograph alive or dead
He smoked a corncob pipe
At least that's what
My father said
He often played a fiddle
At the end of a long day
Ya know
I wonder
What he played


© 2005 Jim Cain

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