For Nana
In Honor of Doris Ann Hendrix, July 24th, 1949 — December 30th, 2023
December came; heavy, lived in, and steady. On the first day, the world fell at my feet. The outside, a walk, without snow pressed under my tongue. I long for sugar milk added in a glass bowl. Whipped and stirred. Cheese cut into cubes. Crackers to potted meat as dipping spears. Days given loving days, love live steady; Days given loving days, 24, 74 so go on Loving Day.
That heavy day, dazed in a silent room. My feet wander for the c r o o k of the wooden floorboard. Red carpet with chunks of snow. Nail pulled up and pink. Nail crawled and beige. Breakfast of the afternoon on the counter. The scent of coffee in the air. Shortness in my knees. The sound warming Dah Dah base of the heater turning on and traveling through our yellow home. I need her hands to hold mine as I run them under warm water.
Oh winter, came December. It struck. I four. I still frozen in snow. Pile outside the red apartment door. I was r u n n i n g after hearing the Earth crunch under my Nana’s tires. Ran straight into Earth’s frozen fire and I saw white, so many bright lights twinkling and singing low. James, you better go get my grandbaby out of the snow. Up and away I go, so high. Red nose, and scarf still tight.
December struck and the world fell heavy on the trees. The green pine fell low and their roots went deep. Rose, turn garden, root, from seed. Love here, a promise, a safety I need. Mud-warmed puddles and a click of a tongue call. Girl, you would not believe what I just saw.
December hit, beat down, and lightning sounds, during the day, remembering scared in my child body. My body still finds no rest. Crook in my knee and ache in my soul. Sun pleads warm but it’s cold as winter goes. Heavy as a pile of snow. Weight downing my cheeks— hurt my heart and every love I know. Every time I breathe.
December 30th came steady, she passed the day of our love, the day she met me. My Nana loved me so gently. She had loved 50 years before I was ready and her love was the best part of mine. I learned to count, go through time, love and write, be seen for love that looks like mine, rhythm, and shoot up to the sky. See her birthmark is just the same as mine. We be stars and we shine; movie theater, Disney World, and every night.
Risha Nicole is a poet, author, teaching artist, and childcare worker from Sandusky, Ohio. Risha is the author of her full-length poetry collection, Without A Sound, and her chapbook, As long as I live you are with me. Their third upcoming collection, Dying Girl, is coming of age. Risha is an alumna of Kent State University where they earned a BA in English. Risha served as a poet for Uhuru Magazine and as a teaching artist for the Wick Poetry Center. She has been awarded the Excellence in Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Justice Award by the Career Exploration and Development at Kent State University.