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I felt the sweetest heartache

as Grandpa went back in time...



He took me down a country road,

leaves whistled in the wind;

he said in his and Grandma's day

they called it River's Bend.

It was just a little brook

that crossed the covered lane;

it sang to them a river song,

but never shall again.



The old green pickup rattled

through Grandpa's wooden gate;

I was listening with my heart

though I was only eight.

But now I know what Grandpa knew

(the river songs and lanes),

and why, without my grandma,

Grandpa never was the same.