homecoming

grandpa was a hard working man
on the weekends he drank without fear
grandma liked his paycheck
grandpa liked his beer

late Saturday nights the phone would ring
my mom and her brother wrestled to get to it first
they knew who it was
and grandpa always sang as his last beer was nursed

mama I’m on my way
remove them skivvies if you please
leave the front door open
and be down on your knees

mom and her brother giggled with childish delight
passing the phone around
just to hear his slurred crooning
while grandmas looks burned him down

she knew he was a good man
of that there was no doubt
and in the doorway no matter the month
he’d shout: Merry Christmas! before passing out