Grandpa

                  by Ralph Fletcher

I remember Grandpa.

He’d get up early with me,

made me “alien pancakes”

that were yeah you guessed it

out-of-this-world delicious.

I remember Grandpa.

We were always outside.

He took me to the pond

when the first peepers

erupted in early spring.

I remember Grandpa.

He concocted wild tales.

          His true stories were great

          and his fake stories  

          even better.

          I remember Grandpa.

          He taught me how to sew ties

          before we’d go trout fishing:

If you make ‘em right  

they’ll last forever

like my memories of Grandpa.