May, 2005
Sometimes in my dreams Kelby,
I am high up in the clouds,
trying to find you,
wherever you are.
Down below,
the earth looks like
a tiny, blue white marble.
But I can still see you.
Sometimes you are sleeping
like a cat, all curled up,
not moving a whisker.
And sometimes,
you are all alone
on a green field, tossing a ball
up and down, testing your arm,
trying to see how strong you are.
I’ve always liked
the color of your eyes, Kelby.
They are as kind as a kitten’s.
No one has them but you.
No one.
I love you.
Grandpa.