Dear grandma, I remember you

and a few of your stories

of the war, the little big

dramas to commemorate



my children only hear them half

because of the bombardment

of images of wars far away

daily in the news



so

we play reality today

to feel, to know

how rending it is



I am the grandma and my daughter

is her mother, the street breaks

after a shot, the air creaks

and we hold our breath