it was a prickly situation
       there was tension in the air
the birds were getting skittish
       we had never thought to run
the armoire drawer was empty
       the countertop was bare
a gentle breeze blew through the trees
       then grandma went for the gun

we’d come to force an issue, yes
       which had gotten out of hand
with lots of grief to go around
       but we were having none
allegations, vile suspicions
       the floor becoming quicksand
but as thoughts of kin were creeping in
       that’s when grandma went for the gun

it happened in an instant
       uncle charlie pulled the shades
to cloak the rabelaisian
       to hide the setting sun
thank god the drawer’d been emptied
       and the counter cleared of blades
for no one dear was wounded here
       when grandma went for the gun