Little Nana.

[flux]

The book between us has
a hard cover and it fits
neatly into our small hands;
the age spots on Little
Nana's hands and face are
like splashes of yellow-
brown paint.

On Little Nana's sofa-bed
beside a black cast iron fire place
Nana opens our book of children's rhymes;
we read and I take in more words
than I would usually take in.
While we read I cannot catch fire
or break something:
[space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space]often
I am mesmerized by
the brass and china ornaments
on the mantelpiece and I stray
too close to the fire
in the hearth.
[space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space]I ask, once, why
Little Nana sleeps beside the fire
and not with Granddad in his iron bed?
I can see the tall-backed wooden chair,
painted maroon red, on the other side
of the hearth--
[space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space]I cannot sit
there, that is Granddad's chair.

Little Nana turns the page.
[space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space]'da DUM
[space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space]da DUM
[space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space]da DUM
[space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space][space][/space]da DUM.'
I take in more words
and I hold them in until leopard spots
bloom on my own face and hands.

[BloodyTears]

Very nice. Nostalgic feeling. I was never blessed to have a Nana like this so it was a blessing to get to feel that feeling for a moment while reading.

[dwells]

Bloody marvelous and some secrets will go to the grave as should be fitting. An economy of words that say so much with a child-like elegance, cheers!

Flux - just noticed the Zz's at the end, perfect, Dan! (and you're not old until those spots coalesce!)

[allmirth]

This is so wonderfully put together with precise and intimately personal details. I like the idea of the taking in of words. It seems the moments being described planted the seeds, which grew the poet. Much enjoyed.

Thanks so much for sharing.
Mirthy

[karrie]

Wonderful descriptions in this it felt as if I were in the room. Wonderful write.

[Jovel320]

Very enjoyable piece and a fantastic look at a child's interpretation of his surroundings. Well done!!!
Jovel

[JASON]

you are still too young for age spots.
Seems to be the norm for our generation and those older:
sweet grannies and tyrant grandfathers - those were the days
when the man ruled the household! (how things have changed)

[SilentTears]

I loved how introspective and nostalgic this was. It's an immersive story and it's fantastic to look at the goings-on through the eyes of a child. Well done, great flow and I adored the structure. It really took it to the next level for me.

[Josie]

My 'Little Nana' was a Mrs. Flores who told me stories and rocked me to sleep in front of her fireplace. While I lived with her I have no memories of ever going upstairs. I woke up in the morning wondering how I ever made it to my bed. Your poem brought back wonderful memories.