Читать книгу Vessel - Parneshia Jones - Страница 14

DREAM CATCHER

for Mary Ella Starling

Rain falls softly with the slumbered

breaths of my grandmother.

I watch from the bedside,

trying not to disturb dreams of

watermelon patches and porch swings.

I walk slowly to the door.

The afternoon and freshly cut grass

cools down the room and eases

the drawl of summer.

Don’t leave girl.

My grandmother lifts the quilt

sewn fifty years ago by her mother,

signaling me to join her.

I slide into the pocket of the quilt,

letting my grandmother’s hands

cradle me back to child.

I nuzzle the crease of her neck

scented with grandfather’s lips.

Her hands, more delicate than tears,

caress the roundness of my face.

Brings back memories, doesn’t it girl.

As a child, my feet barely touched

her hips when she nestled me;

now our legs knit together,

creating a human quilt.

Sleep with good dreams girl.

Our eyes bow to the tranquil rain.

The deep breaths of our slumber

linger above us, like a prayer.