Nanny

Nanny

Our Nanny kept the family together, didn't she?

Cousins, we once played hide and seek

behind Pop-pop's grapevines

careful of the poison ivy, snakes,

and the in-ground hornet nests.

We made Nanny shout and holler

when we left the outhouse door ajar.

We used to tease each other

when we pooped

making monster noises through the wood.

Cousins, we played doctor on the porch

and discovered our innocence and parts

while Nanny was too busy in the kitchen

to worry about four-year old whispers.

Then... you walked in to ask for water

before the next make-believe

hospital procedure

and our clothespin doctor's tools

fell out of your panties to the floor.

Nanny chased me with a wet washcloth

up the hill and around the house.

It stung like bees when she found her mark.

You sat at the kitchen table glowing.

I bent over and took my scalding

Nanny swinging

the cat and nine tails singing.

I glanced up and you were giggling

milk dripping

from Nanny's homemade

sugar cookies.

Funny, you became a nurse

and I wonder if you carry

clothespins in your purse.

We pass each other in the Acme

like strangers forgetting

we once napped together

next to the heat duct in the floor

wrapped in the afghan Nanny knitted.

It was she who made sure Pop-pop

put more coal in the furnace

and cleaned the trap

to keep us warm and children smelling.

It was she who stirred the pot

of boiling milk and rice

all afternoon so I could have a bowl

before I played my next football game

and later when I would ask her

after Pop-pop had passed

and the game was over

she would give me ten dollars

so I could drink

Boone's Farm Apple Wine

with my friends and get sick.

It was she I held in my arms

weightless she was

struggling for breath

holding on.

It was she I whispered,

"Let it go. Let it go. Jesus loves you. Yes, I know."

She was so thin

in and out of comatose.

And looking at me with confidence

because I was the first of hers

to have a college intelligence,

she let go and we...

We have long forgotten our innocence,

too tongue-tied now to reminisce;

hide our days of the great unspoken

that once we lived a trailer niche

and make-believe ourselves once again

measured among the nouvoriche,

coiled and ranked since Nanny's passing.