Yesterday, on the windshield of your car,
our car, the one we inherited from you,
a tiny grasshopper appeared,
light green baby, sitting there,
as I drove to the store.
a symbol of life between us.
I would see them in your yard,
after you passed,
not something we see every day anymore,
like I used to see them as a kid.
A sign of life, a symbol, and I like to think,
from you.
It is you saying, “Care for the earth,
all signs of life, everywhere.
Each life is precious, even grasshoppers,
care for all the living things.”
A friend of mine wrote a poem for you,
‘I see you galavanting through galaxies,
a grasshopper clinging … to your hand…
She dwells with the stars, tethered to God,
with an emerald green grasshopper
strapped by her side.’
I whisper to you in the car,
“I love you, I miss you.”
I see you too, green grasshopper,
all life is connected,
ours, with tiny living things,
and other worlds beyond.
cfblack, 10-20-25
Doctor Grandma 