POEM A DAY – January 4 – VANESSA SHIELDS

This poem is inspired by this photo…an ekphrastic endeavour.

Black & White Moment

There’s a dog-chewed black and white photo of me
Taped to the corner of the desktop computer

My Zia’s head is mostly devoured
One eye, a nose, a chin

She’s tall, wearing a polyester dress
Patterned in floating branch bunches in watercolour swathes

A long cigarette extends between her fore and middle fingers
Hello My Name Is sticker above her left breast, a badge of honour

She’s a volunteer at the church bazaar and I’m tucked under her left forearm
My feet Mary-Janed, my legs leotarted, a plaid kilt and fleece coat hold me upright

Two barrettes cling clumps of my bangs in place
My face is a paradox: half fear half curious

I can still smell the sharp scent of freshly waxed pews
Hovering over the fold-out tables like priest aura

The cigarette smoke, the gardeny perfumes, the peppers
And garlic baked into the yarn of crocheted doilies

My sister’s legs shadow my Zia’s
One of her Mary-Janed feet is mid-step

Otherwise she is completely hidden
This moment in time wounded by an animal

Teeth-mark-bulleted and ragged edged
A near destruction scotch-taped and pressed hard into machinery’s corner

Is an image novella: my childhood
Black and white fearful and curious

Back to work and school tomorrow. Today will be a marathon in keeping my nervous system calm…putting the holiday decorations back in their boxes…hauling them out to the shed…shivering between deliveries. A family meal. An episode of a show. A chapter read…We got this.