Grandparents, a poem


Old and wizened
Washcloth shakes
How dare I make a noise
in this quiet place?

Adults are chattering
Children be gone
Grandparents are sitting
Staring in alarm.

Old and wizened
Moving about
What are you doing?
The questions abound.

Hotdogs are roasting
Cameras are out.
Opa and Oma
New memories they make

The differences is stark
Grandparents of mine.
One likes obedience, 
One memories are found.

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