My Finnish Grandfather
M Sarki

He was in the
vicinity of nobody
most of the time.   

Out in his scraggly
berry patch or
on his knees  

with his carrots
and weeds in
the sand he  

called his garden.
He mined gypsum
ore and was  

thought to be
dangerous.  But
I believed he was  

the U.S. Calvary.
Not Cavalry, tyhmä.

1996 © 2004