Granny Hands

Sitting under swaying trees,

to feel the ease they bring,

the blissful breeze of waving limbs

…until they start to creek.

Then they turn to granny hands,

the creeking sounds the same

as when she pushed the side door open,

wide enough to holler

Go home,

Come eat,

and above all else,

Stop makin’ such a ruckus.