Nana
nana is old
and wafer thin but still bakes
amazing semolina bread
and layered cheese lasagna
flavored with red wine
seasoned with oregano
stuffed with pork and beef
she makes our favorite
lemon biscotti
and at every christmas
serves her sweet and airy
butter and sugar cookies
she tends her shrinking garden
in the warm season
but tenderly now
her body frail
so easily blown over as it is
by the prevailing winds
her fingers are angled bone
her ankles and elbows
almost tear through
her taut dry skin
her knees refuse
at awkward moments
to bend or to unbend
and yet she pauses
to reach and touch
the small wonders
of the world
we so often overlook
finds joy despite the dust
in each object nestled
in her modest home
in its settled place
delights in hidden seeds
destined with warmth
and rain to sprout
from tilled rich soil
gives thanks for those
who through the years
have kept their coming back
caresses the hands
of dying friends
in the final days
before what is
starts over again
watches what we do
sorts honest ones
from liars understands
what keeps best
next to her heart
what thoughts
to hold inside
she smiles
when we joke
that if she were asked
to rule the world
she’d do so as solomon
maybe once did
cutting without nonsense
to the quick
but alas
no one ever asks
more and more
it’s just grandchildren
and great grandchildren
passing through
preoccupied on
a break from school
chasing this
looking for that
sometimes we share
with her political views
of the progressives
we regard so well
nana says it's hard to know
we tell her how
the tv personality is running
for president again
nana thinks
it’s not too good
that he’s that fat
says she thinks
he speaks of hope
to frightened boys
in the bodies of grown men
then steals it away from them
during our last summer visit
she surprised us when she turned
and sighed and said
the pleasure of revenge
makes it difficult
for good hardworking
family men to see
that if he wins
he’ll bring a curse
upon their wives
will take away
what they love most
about their lives
usher in the end