Indelible poem

Reproduced with permission.

From Teri the Gourd Girl, Blue Mounds WI

(Sent to the editor in a Flag

Day Email colloquy June 14, 2009)

................................................

grandmother


you lift a wrinkled hand,
curled fingers smooth my bobbed brown hair.
your numbers hover overhead:
127539
they flash at me.
were they painted there for counting?
determined lips push back the memories.

i learn my numbers from your flesh
setting ink to arm i mark myself:
127539
i am your twin -
i share your stain.

while you teach me to crochet
they play a game -
hide
and seek,
your wrist moves in concentrated twists:
the blue tattoo peeks teasingly
from behind a fine linen hanky
tucked inside your cuff,
edges tatted white.

at Passover you peel red apples.
your wrist turns gracefully.
your numbers roll
like the face of a gas pump.
you scoop the haroset into your palm
your hands are swift
rubbing spheres in circles
so fast your fingers disappear,
your numbers disappear.

ter 2/8/99
alameda co. fair
first place/best of show
july 1999