Contributor: Emma Newman-Holden

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A puff of smoke escapes from my grandfather’s mouth
and with it, spews aspersions aimed at my grandmother
Her name is a bitter taste in his mouth,
it rarely leaves his lips
Tension solidifies the air around me
as my dad anxiously clamors on about the weather

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A name is propelled into the air without thought,
my dad’s mistake
and a forbidden action in my grandmother’s house
Silence overpowers the room and I fidget in my seat,
unsure of how to react
My grandmother simply feigns a smile
and asks if I like school this year


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Cigar stink pollutes my lungs
My eyes scan the restaurant and spots the culprit
Wrinkly fingers clutch the belvedere
And remind me of a face
A face that makes my grandmother itch and squirm
And leaves me with a queasy stomach and a guilty conscience
My grandma’s friendly smile comforts me
But the dismal image of my grandpa alone on Christmas day
Lurks in the back of my mind



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They are at both ends, lugging my arms
Pulling and pulling and pulling
Until the game of tug-o-war ends
And I drop at the feet of the winner
My grandmother is the victor this match
But my grandfather might beat her next time
I am just a disoriented piece of rope,
Whose ends are becoming withered
And my strings untangling more each time


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