SoL Challenge Day #4

In an effort to tell more stories, today I have written a poem.


My Grandfather

It was 1998, Nebraska, and Christmas.

I’d lost a baby tooth on the drive over,
and I smiled up at you as big as I could
so you wouldn’t miss it.

You nodded and gave me a hug
that felt more like a handshake,
hands and arms tied to obligation.

I didn’t understand the hardening
that sometimes happens in men
who have seen more than they speak.

Men who don’t fit in their skin,
so they kick at the surface
when no one else is watching.

I sat close to your chair and
narrated my examination of the tooth.
Each lisped word meant for your ears.

I was seven and resilient,
wrapping my arms around a man who
didn’t love from the same place as I did.