2013
June 1, woke up in grandaddy’s kitchen.
Angry heart, empty heart…
His dishes in sharp, white chips
scattered on the cypress planks.
I'd showed em all.
How dare they parade and shoot off cannon!
How dare they play bingo and opine bout heroes!
Every celebration, that year… I punished em all…
Let em all know - by my boycott gainst their stupid smiles -
That I hated em
And their stupid smiles.
2014
December 26, I didn't turn the lights on.
The phone lay dead in the yard.
I told a child that there wasn't a Santa…
Right in front of his parents.
2015
February 15, Chica lay beside me as I sat in the attic and read letters.
Love letters from a grumpy ol’ man, before he got grumpy,
to a tired, hope-drained woman, before she lost her pretty blush.
I felt ashamed that those letters got more of my tears
then his funeral had stolen.
2016
January 1, I cleaned the whole stable out as my punishment
for laugh’n, the night before.
2017
July 5, I will wake up happy.
I will remember the parade and the speeches.
I will smile at my photos of family and friends
eat’n BBQ chicken and share’n sweet, beloved lies.
I will take down the flag and feel secretly proud of myself
for remembering to fly it.
It's been a long way round.
©Naomi Marshall 2017
YOU ARE READING
Chicken Teeth
PoetryIt's my pleasure to share this eclectic mix of poem, prose, and song. These are stories from the Tidewater: that gentle land that slopes into the sea and cradles the Great Dismal Swamp. I hope you enjoy the read'n of em as much as I have enjoyed...
