an image
pops into my mind,
a visual memory
from childhood.
i think
about my grandmother who
couldn't speak
a word
of English,
with her nylon stockings
pulled
up below her knees,
in a flowered
apron
spotted with blood,
breaking the neck of a
chicken
before plucking it clean
of feathers.
i see
a pot of boiling water
on the stove,
the rising steam, and the
cuckoo clock on
wall
sounding off,
telling her what time it
is again.
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