Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010

Papa's Shower

by Will Cameron

My great grandpa died falling in the shower
because pain, and pills, and time
get heavy.
I wonder what when through his head,
as gravity guided his wet body down.
I hope it was a slideshow
of logging in Mississippi, of his kids, his grandkids.
Of fishing with us, of World War II and the garden he
grew squash and carrots and potatoes in.

I saw him just before he died;
a spur of the moment trip
to Ashland.
I didn’t ask him everything I wanted to.
I didn’t ask him hardly anything.
We just lay there,
on his bed.  My eyes got
I took a breath, but it got stuck
on its way up.
And this would be our last moment:
I hear you so fast you been out
runnin’ yo shadow?

No. Not yet.

Added: 21.11.2009