I’m stuck behind Grandma.

She is ahead of me and

I can’t get by.

She plods along looking

neither right nor left.

She can’t hear me behind her.

Doesn’t she know I am in a hurry?

I have places to go and things to do

and I am late.

She doesn’t see, she doesn’t know. 

She is in a time capsule and it is 1953,

forever.

She is not concerned about my little life.

She has seen a few things and has earned

her spot, plodding along,

ahead of me,

born in ’53.