Grandpa Walton

Grandpa Walton

Abbi Bodager

I.

Four sterile walls.
A poster bed.
A shuttered window, beyond reach.

His heart needs rest,
the doctor orders.
If he leaves this room, he will die.

But an old farmer's heart
needs other things, too.

II.

I saw birds on the mountain today,
he tells his grandpa.

A flock of finches descending on a redbud,
like a burst of the purest sunshine.

III.

Each man is gifted his own corner of the world.
And this place — tended by generations
of matriarchs and patriarchs — is Grandfather's bounty.

His calloused fingertips have memorized
every leaf, petal, and fold of the gloves
he tugs on to begin a day's work.

His hands rehearse the motion now,
as he slumps in bed, cold as the grave.

III.

In a bloom of rebellion,
his family carries him into the morning air.

Now his mattress is wreathed with
daises, hollyhocks, roses, and coneflowers.

His back straightens as he looks to the mountain,
feathered in golden mist.

IV.

The heaven, even the heavens, are the Lord's:
but the earth hath he given to the children of men.

-Psalm 115:16

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Abbi Bodager
Poet & Writer

Abbi Bodager has been published in the Solitary Daisy and Grit & Grace Christian Literary Magazine, among other places. She also recently participated in Solum Literary Press’ mentorship program. You can read more of her work by visiting her Substack, heavens declare.

Photography by Lena Polishko