KEEPING SCORE
My grandpa taught me to play cribbage.
“Two points for His Nibs,” he’d say
And if I’d wrongly count some cards
He’d take those points away.
He’d carve the turkey in the pantry
The spaniel at his feet.
Some bits of skin and gristle he’d
Let fall for Tippy to eat.
My grandpa smoked a fat cigar.
They said he liked to drink
Take up with women in the bars:
It gave me cause to think.
My calm and literate grandma never
Spoke of his defects.
Like her I’ll give him a measure of credit
But not my full respect.
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