New TCBH! poem by Gary Lindorff: 'Cape Cod 1966'

My grandmother was too frail to walk on the sand,
So we used to carry her from the car
Which made her grumble,
Which was just grandma.
We never knew how much she hated being carried
Because we were so busy feeling manly,
My brother and I.
And once we got her settled out of the breeze
She would say
“There, this is nice. . .” or something like that...

For the rest of this new poem by ThisCantBeHappening! resident poet Gary Lindorff, please go to: www.thiscantbehappening.net/node/2677