Anzac

For my granddad

A sober occasion; a happy parade

Look to him and be proud that he marched

That year it was harder than last time

This year, his son that was asked.

 

A month from that day I’d not see him

‘He’s in a hospital, lest we forget’

Too young for the sayings and meanings

To understand old men’s regrets.

 

Holidays visiting summertime

‘Cause the cold back home ate through his bones

He told me he lived there in paradise

When I asked why he couldn’t come home

 

The medals I found in his sock draw

Tucked up and hidden away

Said ‘you do what you do for the ones that you love

But you never feel proud you’ve caused pain.’

 

He’d make me pancakes for breakfast

After wandering screaming at night

They told me hunted for cockroaches

And to stay in bed lest they should bite.

 

 

 

His son marches in the parade today

And we’re told we should watch and be proud

But I loved the man more than the soldier

Another face lost in the crowd

Author's Note

I found this, written about my grandfather back in grade 10. RIP

Reviews

[Darian B.]

Dang, this is an absolutely amazing poem. It's heart wrenching in that completely beautiful way that creates a connection between the reader and poet. From this piece I can feel just a tiny fraction of how you felt when you wrote this. I will never be able to feel what you felt and feel but this is about as close as I can come without experiencing it myself. Such an amazing poem and the last stanza rips my heart out. Most of us try to honor the soldiers that go out and fight for us but how often do we think about each one individually, realizing just how much he or she truly gives up for us and how much those close to him or her give up... Im awestruck by this piece. Very well done

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good poem dear poet.
"His son marches in the parade today
And we’re told we should watch and be proud
But I loved the man more than the soldier
Another face lost in the crowd"
You took reader to good places and good thoughts. Thank you Kaya for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Devons]

This is a beautiful and mature portrait, with realism and poignancy touched delicately and observantly into words. There are beguiling little hints at the old man's character, and perhaps a subtle suggestion of 'damaged goods' displayed in eccentricity and anonymity.
The rhyme and meter seems perfect to me and this is extremely satisfying to read - I think this compounds the feeling and meaning and serves to strengthen the conveyance of detail and message.
This poem is truly very good indeed. The subject is dealt with much more intelligently than the more expected exploration of the larger theme.

NB "sock draw" should be "sock DRAWER" and it should be "They told me HE hunted for cockroaches" (I think that's what you meant)