Grandma

Fly
You who lies but tries to stand

You poor bastard
You smoke for looks

Fly
With crooked legs
Soulfighters bite rocks
And gather memories in their pockets

You sang your songs with closed eyes
You never washed away the sun
And you scared me
When you held your breath
You were a summer tale
You were aged fingers on an accordion
You were jewelry of aged steel
And you drank too much