My grandpa—indulgent king of tender worriers—
faced with a summer clutch of adolescent girls
tucked them into a golf cart and let them go
putt-putting in long loops around the drive
learning to steer, to stop, to run
too close to the fence, upending
gloriously, surviving, unhurt
soothed with soda-pop
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Graceful Press Poetry 
Now, that’s a GRANDpa!
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The best!
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I love this one so much. I feel like I have an entire summer afternoon summarized here in a few word–and what a wonderful grandfather!
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Thank you. He was wonderful.
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Delightful! I ran my dad over … he did not give me a soda afterwards. :). Thanks for the memory.
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Oh, dear. A different kind of memory altogether. Thanks for the laugh.
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There’s something so soothing in the expression put-putting—hazy summer days of childhood.
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I didn’t think a driving lesson prompt would get me nostalgic for childhood, but there I went. 🙂
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I can’t imagine either. One of the most anxiety-provoking experiences I ever had was learning to drive. Loathed it with every atom of my being!
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What a good feeling I have after reading this.
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I’m glad! It brought some good feelings to remember and write it.
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