Scrapbook Insecurities

Grandpa's nose, pointed

wrinkles when he puffs his cheeks

 so I can hear the breath blow out.

Grandpa's brows

burrowing together, 

telling the story of that scar

on his elbow

and the purple heart.

Grandma's eyes

like hot chocolate,

she brings a lemon meringue pie

onto the front porch

where the hummingbirds dance.

Her warm voice, lulling

the story of Max the doberman;

following a rocking chair metronome

We played blackjack over quarters.

Sustenance was

Wintergreen chewing gum, 

Honey Nut Chex 

and Colby-Jack cheese

from the deli

Lullabies were

the Grandfather clock

chiming ethereal tones, 

Draped in brown

carpet,

couches,

a glass dish,

holding hard-candy hopes

a dream just woken up from

that can't be recalled completely,

a faded scrapbook.