barbara ann smith

Will The Real Man Stand Up

I lie here for hours
make friends and enemies
underneath the grape arbor.
The maze winding back and forth through fields.
I come here to find security and serenity.
Lying here, beneath the twisted vines,
I fight bees, tease the snakes and watch
the raccoons spy on me.

I talk to them about Dad's nipping
and his drastic personality changes.
The fragrance of the grapes
and the various purple colors,
a favorite of Mom's,
I feel a closeness to her here.
Bees light on my face,
pretend she's wiping my brow

and assuring me it'll be alright.
I wait until the hours is right
to slip back to the house and into bed
and listen for his sober voice to wake me.