Our lives are moments handed down from generation to generation upon which we build a new version based on this foundation. Our lives appear to be heirlooms. Today, write about an heirloom, memento, or keepsake. Describe it, from whom it was given and strength of the attachment.


Tarnished and dented; a bauble of a bygone day.


Rake in hand, a furrowed brow.
A bandana handkerchief to relieve
the flop-sweat of a mid-summer’s day.
Calculating time by the shadow fall,
verified by a spy of the golden watch
chained to his belt loop.
My grandfather kept time.

And there came a time when
it was no longer relevant to my hero;
neither time nor the watch.
His body was breaking down, eyes dimmed,
hands no longer nimble to work
or keep time. The watch too had stopped
after his frail hands had dropped it
one too many times. Now, I’m the owner
of a broken watch inscribed
with the name of my timekeeper.
Memories of my grandfather mark time.


(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014