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