The Sleigh

Hutch remembers his grandfather’s stories.

I lie in my bed, not sleeping too well
And think of my Grampa, the stories he’d tell
Of riding in a sleigh, all bundled in blankets against the cold snowy chill
With a very old dog, the dog’s name was Bill

How he did Love it, the tinkling bells
The horse knew the course on the darkest of night
Going to Grandma’s with a lantern for light.

He gave me a glimpse of what joy he had known
Somehow it seemed, almost my own.
If once in my life I could go back in time
To tell these wondrous stories as though they were mine.

Some thoughts are magic you see,
Grampa feels like I’m with him
I think he still does
Maybe he’s right, maybe I was.