8/3/2021 Poetry by Magin LaSov Gregg spablab CC
Family Portrait Harpers Ferry On the first day of spring, it’s hot enough For short sleeves, too cold for shorts and sandals Our bodies draw silhouettes along grass, we look like The shadow portraits your mother Made and hung outside your bedroom Her gallery of ghosts with coal smoke faces You notice a barn the color of Red Vines, licorice We ate them at the movies, when we went to matinees There’s a wax museum in the distance a fake confectionary Monuments to John Brown, W.E.B. Du Bois the Niagara Movement In June, we would have brought our baby here The way my mother and father brought me Her first words might have been Mama, Shenandoah, Potomac Or maybe she would have said dog or cat or bird I wanted her to love butterflies, wordless creatures, West Virginia I wanted to photograph her on the mountains, in the valleys I wanted us to picnic in this churchyard full of Civil War dead After a hundred years, no one remembers their names Save the mothers and fathers buried beside them and the dandelions who remember everything Perennials April and on every sidewalk fallen blooms: azalea, redbud, pear, cherry, ornamental and Japanese, along gravel, in gutters, storm drains. Yesterday, blossoms drifted onto daffodils with names like Riot, Cheer, and Bonanza. Against the fence, their heads rose like little zealots, faithful to the end. I stepped on rusted fronds returning to mud, the way we all do. For awhile it’s God’s art class and all the desks are covered in hole-punched confetti from construction paper the teacher keeps in a cabinet called wind and sky and what strange music bids buds to fly from a high place to a low one, to shake, shimmy and twirl all the way down, like the last guests to leave a party dancing past the doors, singing their return. Magin LaSov Gregg’s writing has appeared in The Washington Post, National Public Radio, The Dallas Morning News, The Rumpus, Full Grown People, Solstice Literary Magazine, Bellingham Review, Hippocampus Magazine, Under the Gum Tree, River Teeth’s Beautiful Things, and elsewhere. A Pushcart Prize nominee, she lives in Frederick, Maryland, with her husband, Carl, and four fabulous rescue pets. Comments are closed.
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