A blooming ancestor their grandmother and mother
Walks trails with friends in national parks

Eats nothing on holidays  feasts on lush landscapes
Scenery fresh   delicious but never overpowering

Bird song fills her with love from the cosmos
Ensures no need for holiday dinners or cleanups

Far from awkward phone conversations
About a son’s or daughter’s latest exploit

Where is this family of the Land’s End ad
Sparkling in greens and reds whites golds?

They pose with wan smiles  no grandma near a tree
Groaning with ornaments floor littered with packages

Shrouded with enough paper to stuff landfills
Some large enough to choke a blue whale

Perhaps there are genetic or cultural platforms
Undergirding this strange portrait

This small crowd stables a black SUV  a red truck
And a metallic sea-green Volvo to dress up in

Remember the maxim: “God gave us our relatives
Thank god we choose our own friends ”

This is America  land of independence
From whatever warmth or wisdom Grandma might exude

Freedom from her concerns her face a reminder
That one day they too may be old weak alone

This is America land of Wal-Mart wonders
Where those fit to run will make it big

Those who are aged or frail must fall or fail
Be put aside where they cannot be a nuisance

The heedless young ones carry on
Consuming almost everything in or out of sight

While the outcast wily grandma carries on a revolution
With a small army of compatriots ancient and powerful