Grandma's Accident - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
What ruckus could it be I said,
like cans and glass in disarray,
the sounds of hooves (it's Mister Ed?)
or ghosts from space that came to play.
Inside the pantry it was still
as if all sounds had ceased to be,
poor grandma, always on a pill
her body lifeless, pale and free.
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