I used to think
I could see the edge of the world
from the Walt Whitman bridge.
Around the same spell,
a black sheep
would tell me scary stories
before naptime.
I fell asleep to clipped Italian
and soap opera drama.
We each had a place at the table--
I only ate chicken tenders
drowned in ketchup
ice-cream at eleven AM
fingers sticky as I reached
for more Hershey Kisses,
for another hand of cards
in the most loving games of war
I've ever played.
I was a card shark
at that mottled kitchen table for years.
But the evening,
dotted with the golden glow
of end-table lamps,
heralded the arrival of
a drive home
five PM feeling
ants under my skin.
After we’d packed up and,
the leftovers were placed gently
on the passenger’s seat,
my grandmother would wave
from the porch.
Her teeth--
large, false
brown from all the coffee she’d drink
shone in the fading light
as she smiled.
I could see the edge of the world
from the Walt Whitman bridge.
Around the same spell,
a black sheep
would tell me scary stories
before naptime.
I fell asleep to clipped Italian
and soap opera drama.
We each had a place at the table--
I only ate chicken tenders
drowned in ketchup
ice-cream at eleven AM
fingers sticky as I reached
for more Hershey Kisses,
for another hand of cards
in the most loving games of war
I've ever played.
I was a card shark
at that mottled kitchen table for years.
But the evening,
dotted with the golden glow
of end-table lamps,
heralded the arrival of
a drive home
five PM feeling
ants under my skin.
After we’d packed up and,
the leftovers were placed gently
on the passenger’s seat,
my grandmother would wave
from the porch.
Her teeth--
large, false
brown from all the coffee she’d drink
shone in the fading light
as she smiled.
✱✱✱
| Alyssa is a scientist, a writer and a resplendent spectral wonder. She is holding out for the ghost of her dreams. Find her on twitter @ClinicallyChill. |
