Small victory

My grandfather stole Nazi tobacco
to trade for bits of turning fish.
" He was no thief ", my mother says
and I remember the strength of his grip.

When I go to the Chinese market
and see the heads and fins on ice
or drag deeply on cheap cigarettes;
I smell small victories
and know that once, in Amsterdam,
a family did not eat grass and
that those who said they should
ate cyanide and lead.