Sunday poems - August 22
This Generation
She rides her motorized scooter
to the morning gathering place
lights her cigarette--
She interrupts the scuttlebutt
by clearing her throat.
When I was young
no no-account child would run
in front of my scooter.
She patted it
like a favorite steed.
The conversation turned
to the no-accountedness
of the next generation.
I listen quietly, nodding my head
at each punctuation.
Remembering my grandfather
saying similar words---
of this generation.
(She is Beverley who died in 2013 at 82.)
Cyn Bagley (c)2013 Published in Outside my Window