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Brushing Grandma's Hair She has me reach into a drawer Take out a brush And brush her hair. I guess it feels good to her. Her own hands now too weak To hold a brush. Brush glides lightly Through silvery hair. Harder I'm not tenderheaded. She says. I brush harder. When I am done her hair Looks pretty much the same As when I started. I guess she feels better. Later at the dinner table She speaks of having her hair brushed. My father and I Both say that we did it. We look at each other realizing we've been conned. She just smiles knowingly. ©Michael D. Grover

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Michael D. Grover is a Florida born poet. As a drifter he has lived all over the country. Michael's poetry has been published all over the literary underground. His newest chapbook is titled "The Man That Lives In The Park".