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Sunset, Hello

sunset, hello


Copyright © 2016 by


David Wesley Anderson (@dwesleya)


All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.


To my grand parents and those who came before them. I would not be here if it wasn’t for their struggles and joy. Every day I walk inside their memories.


Forever they will live.




trained horses

i am sorry


his eyes

versus the world

miles per hour

would say

help and help

for the moment



grandmother was a baby

grand with shining white

keys black tones

a saintly lullaby


though not the same

mine just will not play

nor subtle confident to bend

nor play to tune


with what do you replace

her encouragement if there

is only

[silence] in response?


maybe one day children

will play (mine) and i

will say:

you sound just like my


god rest her soul


i hope they play her

sheet music

falling apart from the

early days

show tunes plays operas




god rest his soul


i hope they appreciate

her voice

{dynamics of emotion}

through which a piano

molds its player


how in


every key

there is a

heart beat press

feeding into our soul

and echoing

beyond imagination

trained horses


i do not drive fifty five

because you never would

your blood

in mine

the independent driving


black top asphalt hot

surging air

sunroof view

smooth visual continuity


when you were fifty five

you owned a red:two door

with a bench

for a back seat

and a screaming engine

under your foot


i bought your last

at the

height of pursuit

with alloy wheels



sixty trained horses ride

a rear wheel drive slip

system and all leather

seating beating

senses senseless


i will continue

on this [your] drive

i am sorry


i am sorry i could not be

there for the times

the piano played

you telling me

i know everything

and to take care

of my mother


i am sorry i could not be

there to fix your inbox

and your television set

even though i ate a

lemon ice

every time

i came over


i am sorry i could not

be there

to tell you about my


and i never told grandpa


or how much

it hurts to not have you

around anymore


i am sorry i could not do

more because you helped

everybody and you were


and it is hard to not

have anyone else

to look up to

like i did with you


i am sorry that your house

is now empty

even though i hear your

echoes telling me

i am such a smart kid

and i do not ever have

to worry

because i had you


i am sorry i could not be

a better grandson and take

care of everyone

like you did i am sorry

if i have another lemon ice

and you are not there



in each of his years

a sixty eight eldorado

open air and smooth

defined his lifestyle

with class


tasteful appreciation

suave lines

ray banned lapels


casual confidence

and a smile that could

sell you the stars


he shined of new

fresh pressed dressed

to impress but

to imagine him as

anyone else


he was the sixty eight


savvy ahead of time

defining golden

generation glitzy


carving out his place

(nay his time)

like the perfect


his eyes


he laid there

mouth wide open

breathing shallow


with a bruised shoulder

some dimming light in

[his eyes]


focused on breathing


he saw me & shook my hand

it was weak


his legs were uncovered

they were ghostly


he coughed

something between phlegm

mucous and i do not know

but it was deep

from the gut

the core of him

pushing a little longer


[his eyes]

grasped at me

sucking any few minutes



gurgling moans


(i left the room)


later on i said good bye

i looked at him once


[his eyes]


his hands



i could not i said

i will see you soon grandpa

hoping he would rest

versus the world


i would watch you smoke

that pipe

smell soothing air

lowering my voice

just enough

to hear grandma

cooking dinner

and wondering about dessert


i remember i would

shake your hand

whenever i would leave

and you would squeeze

it hard

(to show me how

strong you were)


wondering if i would ever be

stronger than you ever


even my wit was never

as quick

the ways you spun around

my words told me things

like a pint is a pound

take your hat off inside

always do the job right

the first time


i always listened to

your stories

golden age of trains

boats in the med

flashbacks of so and so

and so who

were long dead gone

but [the stories [the way you

spoke were alive]

and i was there] alive


i will not remember

you bed ridden

silent slow walking still

slouching tired


churning as a

fireball through

space a locomotive

from great

days loud a

steaming warship

who built with his bare


(his entire world

each day

against all odds)

miles per hour


i knew you were

watching over

[that] sun glazed blacktop

[that] steel concrete

with pillars

reaching the sky

at ninety five smooth

as melting

glass with shades

black no moon night


could have been white walled

nineteen fifty eight

but we have led bulbs now

sustainability they say

(and climate control)

whatever that is when the

windows are down

sunshine far as i can see

reaching the sky

at ninety five

would say


you would

tell me

wear your seatbelt

and i would say

i know grandma

and you would say

well you know everything

now do you?

and i would say


and you would slap me


and smile


you would call me


and i would go to you

you would say

something with the


and i would fix it

and you would say

how did you fix it?

you are so smart

and i would say

i know grandma


we would leave your house

and you would say

david come here

and i knew why

you would hand me a twenty

even though i had a job

and you would say

here is for the toll

and i would say

i got it grandma

and you would say

and take care of your


and i would say

i will

and you would say

i know you will

you are such a great kid

and i would say

thanks grandma

help and help


dearest grandmother

[you were]


my rock my

only help

like you

i help

and help everyone

else and

i go home at night



cook for myself



always taking out

of my


and then i have nothing

no sigh of relief

but sigh

of stress

the shower and repeat

and like you


my heart will beat


and faster



it cannot





for the moment


and then she was alive

and then i woke up

and then the feeling of her

and then being alive

and then lost

left the dullest ache

across my bones in the pit

of my stomach

and in the corners

of my [eyes]

Sunset, Hello

Most replace the silence of death with weeping and a long slow agony. An empty space. Objects from the deceased raise up in sentimentality. Piano etudes. Black dress shirts. Shifting from fourth to fifth gear. And the final mental picture of them as they lay helpless to nature taking back it’s own. We each fight the world and for a time, each one of us wins. The simplest of conversations repeated over and over again so they are never forgotten.

  • ISBN: 9781370843909
  • Author: David Wesley Anderson
  • Published: 2016-08-18 05:05:15
  • Words: 1250
Sunset, Hello Sunset, Hello