Traces of colored horses charge towards me
Running to escape the black coated canvas
He stays still, longing for closure
He’s tired, done, unidentifiable,
Blotched scars of battle still visible.
My grandpa’s last painting hangs
Knowing his suicide would come
Before touching paint marched through
by my fingers.

And though he is unfinished
My grandpa is finished
So maybe there are things best left undone
Who is anyone to say the Korean War is incomplete
In war and life
My grandpa was a soldier
Drawing lude pick me ups for lonely fighters
Even after 1945 he fought this way
In 2001 he died in battle
With paint still on palette –brush touching canvas
They were not love birds
When grandpa went down
His comrade kept fighting
Finishing the battle alone
But still finishing
Gallantly.