he was a lion
imperious in speech and manner
we all stood in dread
of his every word.
one evening she walked in
he took one look at her
and sold his cows
called the chief priest
to sound the gong
of his impending nuptials.
next morning
we found him dead
and no sign
of the new queen.
it is coming
with each dawn
I watch
grandma
her potholed tongue
from ground tobacco
and her smile.
My heart strains
as I return
her one tooth
smile.
I am afraid to
sleep
maybe it will
delay
the coming gloom
How shall I tell
grandma
that the tobacco
is all gone
to pay the bills.
as Christmas
approaches
