she likes the color yellow

ode to grandpa

the landscape is alien.
we have crash landed
on mars.

brown and tan canyons
evenly dusted
with shades of red
glow with the sun
behind them.

there is no vegetation
except some cacti
or bushes,
perhaps a scraggly tree.

i spot something.
over there.
i sprint on the sand.
bones without flesh
had been eaten by maggots
and vultures.
a head and horns
lay nearby
the scattered pieces
of what use to be
a bull.

come here my child.

grandpa!

i run up to him.
he hugs me
wearing a space suit.

why look how big you are!
you even have teeth!

I giggled
and he scooped me up
into his soft,
spotty arms.

this is my ranch.
you grandma is here too.
i grow some fruit
over yonder.
they're very special.
i have to keep up
metal fencing
to keep the pests away.

why would you do that?

oh, you'll see someday
when you're older
and you have your own
crops to grow.
you only want
special people
to eat your fruit.
the deer and foxes
are too selfish.
you must keep them out.
would you like to see?

together,
in the morning light,
we get dirt
in all places
and cultivate
the moon and sun.

he taught me how to
and started my garden.