by ale

When I was five
years old, I asked
Grandma, why she married
Grandpa. She said she was
blind, and that she could not
see, so she was tricked by his
charm, his sweet talk, as she
could not see past, the 1960s.

On the new year
of 2010, she pulled me
aside, before the evening
sun set, and asked if he was
coming, for dinner. I could not
lie, and she questioned my
Mother, whose exasperation at
this discord, had made her indifferent,
and she could not care less
than to offer an explanation.

They did not see or speak
of each other, for it is
far too humiliating
to acknowledge the existence
of this ruined relationship,
and in doing so exposing
the frailty of their wrinkled
bodies, and unyielding

But he had to make small talk
and she could not be silent.
With harsh tones and
the rolling of eyes
it was made certain,
though we already knew,
that they shall never
be hand in hand.

[a year later when he succumbed to
the printed documents, she
announced to his relatives
that it was final
and not to look her up
as her obligations were over.
victoriously, she bid farewell,
and I knew, that for her
all was well.]