Opal Jewelry and Beckoning Bread For Nana She was old, at least As if that won’t be us tomorrow. As if life continues on forever and doesn’t snap shut— a screen door while you’re still on the threshold. She wasn’t in her right mind As if the times she watered tulips or mixed up paint in Styrofoam bowls weren’t consequential, didn’t carry over with her into days emptying out on yellowed linoleum. She’s at Home now As if I’m not remembering how I always felt peaceful around her, the self-contained pool— timidly gathering brown eggs beside her calm body. As if I can just continue to go on without her saying my name or giving me orange sherbet. Did everybody decide to just forget about her oval watch or that exquisite gap in her teeth or especially those navy blue sneakers? How can they calmly say she’s not suffering anymore 119
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