Leveler Poetry Journal
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Blue

 

I try to tell

my loved ones of the way it tastes:

 

harsh, first, and then, sometimes,

 

a sweetness

 

Water hiding

 

Cousin J’s feet

as he smiles like a

little prince.

 

Mama in the RV, watching us

 

out a plexiglass window. M and I

 

pretending to be mermaids.

 

This is how we learned

the value of long hair,

 

something to hide behind

when quiet

 

blooms into silence. Evenings are fish fry

dinners, whiskey hidden

 

in tabasco bottles while

 

no one says

what they really think. Instead,

 

we talk about the splendor

of nature. How beautiful the trees are,

someone says. How

 

peaceful the water. I remember it

sloshing in my mouth.

 

Cold teeth clack and I

try not to swallow

try not

to spit it out.




Meriwether Clarke