cobwebs on sandspikes

the darkest corner of a forgotten attic
a glance at the Gramps I never knew
one canvas bag, Lands End brand
stuck between sandspikes and fishing gear
resting on a Pacifico sign
waiting out time for my arrival

holding page after page
handwritten poetry
tales of bars, beaches, and love
products of a shallow mind
which flowed constantly
fading reality into cool pastels
to be dried upon the summer sand

I now know why....
                  he smiles in every picture