There was my grandfather,
I called “Pa";
65, retired railroad man;
Known as “Pop" in the yard.
Then came my “Dad"
as I called him.
"Pop" he was dubbed by his grandchildren galore.
I took respite in a small restaurant,
Feeling hardy and spry;
No “Hon" or “Sweetie" from this guy.
"What’ll you have, Pop?"
My Pop 3 server.
Reminding me time marches on.
