The moment the helicopter crashed

in the field behind my house, my heart

skipped a beat and I couldn’t help

but think of my grandfather whose aorta

busted at the age of eighty-three

while on his morning stroll

around our rather small block,

me back then, barely thirty and nearly

a grandparent myself. No one

was hurt, but the wings got

smashed up, and Grandpa died

before he hit the pavement.

Even this many years later,

I still wonder what his face

looked like in the pine coffin

Mother picked because she was cheap

and no one else was home.

Last updated on Monday, November 13th, 2006 .