My Grandfather's Chessboard

Lying there
Hands extended
In my hands now
Feelings of warmth spread through me
Wood in my hands but now part of my soul
Limp as the life leaves him
Smokey woodfire fills my nostrils
Tears fall to the chessboard
It fells larger and larger
I feel smaller and smaller
Running my hands over the oak wood box
Now lying in the black shadows in my room
I lift the lid with shaky hands
Creak until my final days I hold it dear
The child standing there with tearful eyes
My grandson
Extending my hands
He holds the chessboard to his shaky chest
I let out my final breath