Blackcurrent Jam Poem by Brie Carter

I bear the weight
Of never holding my grandfathers hand
Dripping with the sticky sap of melted popsicle
Of never being held in his arms on Christmas
When everyone was crammed into the living room
Air thick with laughter and nostalgia
Of never sitting with him
In his shooner on a sunny afternoon
And listening to all of th eadventures his life has held
And all that he promised mine would hold
Of never crying to him late at night
Tucked under mounds of blankets
Whether it was my knee that ached or my heart
Of never hearing his laugh- that belly jiggling guffaw
From across the kitchen at another one
Of Grandma's remarks
Of never witnessing the little spark in his eye
Never inhaling the cinnamon smoke of his ciger
Never seeing his flesh, never studying the crook in his nose
Neve rknowing what he smelled like
Never knowing if he liked ketchup on his egges
Or blackcurrent jam on his toast