“Like the Story of Brigadoon″ was originally posted in PNA Village Connections Blog on June 4, 2014
Poem by Marilyn Zuckerman
I see them only one day a year
the sun appears
mist rises over bog and meadow−
and they come racing
over the brow of the hill
crying, Grandma, Grandma
Watch me! Watch me!
The boy steps forward to sing all the stanzas
of the Mets team song
then the girl, dressed in green leotards,
does an Irish clog dance
while the baby takes her first steps.
Now brother and sister face each other like duelists
and hurl insults full of potty words at each other
until one of them cries.
Finally, the girl, with cigar clamped between her teeth
and the boy with Chico’s Italian accent
act out the funniest lines
from A Day at the Races.
The baby watches in admiration.
As night falls
and the silhouette
of the others fades into the background,
the girl falls to the ground,
throws her arms around my knees
in mock supplication.
I watch as she disappears
arms first, then torso
her upraised face like
the Cheshire Cat’s
−only her smile
· · · · ·
June is graduation month and in my case two of my grandchildren are graduating – one from high school and one from college. This poem, which I wrote many years ago when we lived in different cities, is dedicated to them.
From my book, In the Ninth Decade, Red Dragonfly Press, 2010.