NaPoWriMo 2019 – Poem #4

There is a scar on my grandmother’s forearm.
A spiderweb of mottled flesh from elbow blossoming to wrist.

It’s been there as long as I have memory, and probably before.
One day I asked her how she got it.

Without a thought, she answered:
It was your grandfather.
He threw me through a window in one of his jealous rages.

To this, I had no reply.

NOTE: This poem is inspired by the prompt for Day #1 – write a poem that achieves sadness through simplicity.

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