Tag: nanna

butter and jam

At the counter 
a plate of eggs and sausage 
act as sides to the main
act;

Toast
homemade jam
butter spread 
thick, without 
apology

As a child 
she added extra;
lined each slice 
layered and thick

Butter was her 
language 
of love 

Enjoy this 
without worry,
her actions said 

Your body is 
perfect
when its 
satiated

sit here 
let me 
feed you

I can hear her
in every bite 

I see her hands 
in each layer 

I smile 
when a lot 
still isn’t 
quite right 

It’s only ever enough 
for her and for me 
when our hearts
are full
Posted on by restlesscrescent 0

View

 
on your back porch
you do not see mountains 
or ocean waves
the town of Falerna 
or the promenade to the sea;

there's no distance 
or depth
in this view.
 
I watch you
sitting -
looking out at 
the garden you built
on the land that's your own.

Is it the sustenance,
the stability 
you see?
Is it the 
family 
the existence -
life
are you seeing your reflection?
  
Answers were never 
in your words.

I find them
in that small space
within
the tomato stalks
and sunflowers

He looks out
at the plot of land

the one that
offered the grandest of gifts.

I do not tell him in words;
that's not our shared language.

he gave us life 
and in return
i lived.
Posted on by restlesscrescent 0

She calls me tesoro

I help care for my Nanna. 
My father and uncle hold her 
as my mother and I clean her. 
 
She sits and cries, 
 
“You should not see this, Marisa.”
 
“I’m happy to be here Nanna. I need to be.”
 
“I want to kiss you.”
 
I lean in, place 
my forehead against her lips. 
We sit like this for a moment.
 
The quiet is treasure,
just as she’s called me her’s
all my life.
And just like that, 
the moment flees. 
 
The chaos begins again.
Love in its many forms. 
Suffering, too.
Posted on by restlesscrescent 0