Beneath the Bark
The Rocky Mountains stretch out behind us,
covered in resilient evergreens.
The sky above glows white
as it reaches down towards the covered mountains,
mimicking the purity
of the beauty below.
In the center of the shot are
my grandma holding my sister,
and me holding my grandpa's hand.
The scene is a perfect match to the
innocence of the display behind us.
But the picture doesn't show
my grandpa's lungs or his scraggly voice.
All the love he had for family
didn't squelch his love for nicotine.
Military life limited the moments
I had with him.
But that habit ensured that even those
opportunities wilted and died
like a tree choked by weeds.