The original poem was much longer, but simply was not very good. Not at all. I wrote it on the plane, on the way back from Grandpa's funeral, and fought with it from that day until this morning, when the real poem came. I meant it to be done before Memorial Day, but it came one day too late. It's not brilliant, but it's better than the original one. I hope Grandpa would've liked it. Even if he didn't, he'd have lied and said he did.
after grandpa's hearing had mostly gone,
we attended a play starring my brother.
later, I commented on
his near-constant, red-faced teary laughter.
I couldn't hear what they were saying,
but everybody sure seemed to be having
a good time.