For A Grandmother (Our Mamo!)

by Paul Tristram

She was only 4ft and a bit
but when she turned that corner
by The Traveller’s Rest pub
you could feel her presence
all the way to Longford.
She didn’t bob & weave
like all the other old folk
going to Jeffrey’s Stores
or the CO-OP in Skewen.
She walked straight as an arrow
with pride all of the way.
She smelt like Wintertime,
like pine combs & bonfires.
Her glance was sharp as a sword,
No one would dare mess with her.
She was a homing pigeon
inside a family of male falcons
but if crossed you would have wished
that you had met us instead of her.
The Rock of our family, completely
and what a Fucking Family!
Our Mamo walked it and talked it,
I’ve seen her defending her grandchildren
against a street of riot vans
and they backed the fuck down.
They don’t make them like her anymore!
As small as she was in stature
her heart more than made up for.
And I am such a proud man
being able to count myself
as one of her boys.