Five Wagons of Hickory Nuts

They tell me,
Your whole life
was getting ready for this.

My son makes the leaves rain
and his voice growls a low thunder.
Eyes closed, I fall back
into the spin of the teal princess.
Her gown fills with air
and long sleeves float like ribbons.

Today we fill five wagons with hickory nuts
one bucket at a time.

They tell me,
God gives special children like him
to people like you for a reason.

I once hid
in my sister’s closet
and squatted over the mirror
while studying the diagram
in her Women’s Health textbook.
I touched the places they said
were supposed to feel good and wondered
when my blood would start.

They tell me,
You are a Saint, woman
I could never do it.

We fill five wagons with hickory nuts.
We use two hands.
We use one shovel.

The baby calls me Mommy Princess
but I am not,
not even a Saint.


~