Pappou Memories:

i can see you for coffee
good and bad cups
decaf, and greek cups
i can see you for a lover of all things
for all sides of the story
a lover in general
i see you and the way your lips hold their formation
how they form their accent on words i take for granted, and we make fun of you for
i see you for your clip on sunglasses
and the felted hat that's silky and red on the inside
i think of you and your left hand, and how you have remained faithful for all these years
i think of you and the table you feed me at
the wooden table, the knit place-mats, and the crocheted seat covers that slide around
i think of you in dim lighting
and fisherman floods
for flashing hazards, and 63
think of you and your right cheek and how it feels when i kiss it
i can see your hair, white feathers that never know what they want, especially on your hat days
i see your belt popping over the back of your slacks, and the fanny pack filled with euros
i see your fast pace, and willingness to progress it even farther at 83
i see your lamp, and your handwriting that glows underneath it with important phone numbers
your red clock, and jesus painting all enclose the bunk beds room, and i can see them staying in the same spot for a while now
i hear you in the crickets at night, and i smell you on a shirt i own
i see you in many shades of brown, in gold, and in blue
i see you in shades of light, and shades of color
i see you in words, and in instances when they dont need to be expressed that way
i can think of you in warm summer nights in Greece, and i can think of you on cold days in Northern New Jersey when you refuse help shoveling.
i see the blue carpet, and the mirror that reflects it all
i see your steps, and how frequently you took them
olives and feta, i can think of you in tastes
tomatoes and oil, i can remember you in consistency
i see you for pink hula hoops, and ruby red grapefruit juice, grilled cheese done wrong, and entiments boxes that i will always get offered.
i see you in memories that have a long life to lead, and in one's i can only hold in my hand as evidence that you smiled, or stood that way
i see you in every which way that's good.
every half hour chime, every bathroom mishap, and all family gatherings where you oversee it all.
i see both of us together, because that's how my memory always regains its composure