Submitted Poetry


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Grandfather


by Anteeshia DelaCroix

Grandfather was
a carpenter who worked
magic
with two hands and tools
he conjured tables, chairs, and
railings for the stairs from
walnut, oak, and pine.
Mother's home remembers.

He often sat with me below,
then with a knife
carved life into a tiny
monkey curled into a ball
that once had been a peach pit
nothing more
after his stroke
those two hands lost
touch and would not work
in wood the six years
till he died thirty years ago.

Sometimes my unskilled fingers
trace the ivy
growing in mahogany
on a chairback
and sometimes
round and round they roll
the tiny monkey
living in my pocket.


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updated 11/9/99