Last Goodbye

Misty clouds gather around my head, 

Petrichor of the rain, cry the epiphany, 

The whimpers of the past,

The shadows of the whethered future.

Limping sounds amidst arising chaos,

Too much to handle says the head,

And a lot to carry says the sage.

Can't laugh enough can't cry less,

With dried throat and a pacing heart, 

I say "goodbye grandpa".