To a Native from a Transplant

Him’n that pillow, huggin’ it out all night.
Makes him look younger’n he is.
But I’ll never tease him or hide it away,
‘cos he needed that pillow, given-a him
in the blanched glow of the hospital,
when fear nested deep in our hearts.

Him’n that pillow, years later, still there,
‘neath fancier fellows by day,
but come dark, he’ll clutch it tight to his scarred chest,
grandad and his pillow.

 

poetry

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