NaPoWriMo Poem #11

Games with Grandpa
By Edward S. Gault

I don’t know when his wife died
I was always told it was long before I was born.
He always seemed so ancient
His skin lined with the years he had lived.
Brown spots mottled his scalp
And blended into what hair he had left.
The important thing was not to be lured
Into thinking he was senile,
That would have been a grave mistake.
For example, in chess,
He would take your King, then your Queen,
Before you knew they were gone.
Game over!
Then he was a checker shark.
He had ways of jumping over all
Our pieces-in one move
In Dominoes we didn’t stand a chance.
The man had a century on us all,
Even after all the Cigars.
That must have been his secret,
The cigars.

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