Editorial Board

Memory wafts in the rustle of taffeta
The glittering silver sandal straps
The clinking of ice in cocktail glasses
A tableau of pretty people in pretty rooms
A red Persian rug, a large piano
You standing with my handsome father, laughing and smoking
I running to your skirts, crashing the party in my pajamas
Burying my face in black taffeta folds and velvet cloverleaves
Smelling perfume, tobacco and bourbon, the smells of comfort, of Mommy and
Daddy
Listening to the echo of the last notes you played on the piano
Stealing the bright red cherries from the empty glasses
Pieces of You
M a r y K a y M e t c a l f
You are the same Mommy who cut bananas so fast that I thought your thumb
would fall off
Told me that I could cut my doll’s hair off but it wouldn’t grow back
Gave me Cheerios and M&Ms
Laughed at the antics of our two manic dogs
Let me play with the new baby with her doll1s blue eyes
Always had a hug and a song and a cigarette at the ready
Tried to explain to me what divorce was
It shouldn’t have ended so soon on a dusty North Carolina road
What does a five-year-old know about soft shoulders and fractured skulls?
I was blinded by the spinning car and the dirt in my eyes
Kind hands pulled me out to see
The crying baby with a cut finger and blood spilling on her red dress
The older sister flung into a field
Ambulances, pickup trucks, good country people
Tears