CAMPFIRE LULLABIES
Real stories tonight, she says, not/made-up. Like what I did, summers when /I was her age: ---From “Real” by Luisa A. Igloria
(For Chloe and Louis)
1. Then
Something about a canopy of stars
and the darkness among the pines
must turn them into giggling elves
traipsing among the lantern flies.
Bugs with lit tailpipes, he calls them.
She stifles a guffaw, shushes him:
you will wake the hungry bear up.
Would you want to wake up inside
his swirling stomach? He whispers
under the tangled sheet: tell me more
stories, real ones this time. About
how you and abuela stopped a bus
while crossing the street, and she
gave the yelling driver her fat finger.
2. Now
Here we are, imp of a brother grown
beyond those yarns. Will you tell
your own boy---raucously laughing
all by himself in his dimly lit tent---
the same grandmother stories?
“Once upon a time,” will not do it,
they grow quickly beyond that.
Why not lull him instead with one
of grandfather’s hammock songs?
“When you talk to these trees,
they will always answer you: Close
your eyes tightly, we will sing to you.”
Here we are, imp of a sister, plotting
lullabies by campfire, when sons beg:
Will you tell us real grandma stories?
---Albert B. Casuga
07-20-11
2 comments:
I love this one (the last line especially resonates with me).
I once had a maddening discussion with my mom (I think I was 3) about Barbie. I kept demanding, "I know she's A Barbie, but what's her REAL name?" (I think I thought Barbie was a species?)
Thanks, Hannah. Any tidbit of story about or by grandma is gospel for this old chap. Yes, children do have their own idea of what is "real". Those two (Chloe and Louis) prevailed on their Dad to stop by a Fair on their way home from a visit with their other gramps in Ottawa. Hours overdue home, they will have a giggle when they tell their anxious Mom--now, that was real. (Chloe cannot abide Barbie being dressed up; she strips her bare when she plays with the hapless specie.) (:--}
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