Snap in the Twilight

A snap in the twilight hour
awakens me, quickly I bolt out
of bed my hands freezing goose bumps
up / down my body following this
luring snap that isn’t wood
crackling / popping in the fireplace
a lost snap coming from Mama’s
kitchen my anxious footsteps creak
old floorboards, yesterday’s snap
transports my black / white thoughts
to the early sixties where I find my brother
Ramon sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded
by stacks / stacks of the Albuquerque Journal
back then I was a spoiled 12 year old
allowed to sleep late while Ramon at 13
rose at twilight every morning with
a quick snap of his slender wrists
he wrapped each paper with twine
Mama placed them in a large greasy
canvas bag that sat on his old gray scooter
in the twilight hour mother / son begin
their day with no resentment or anger
just a gentle hum / snapping of two souls
embracing life never afraid to work
Mama kept a coffee can in the kitchen
cupboard, on payday Ramon filled it
with change to buy food for Mama’s
new freezer. I proudly added a few cents
from babysitting this twilight hour there
is no one in Mama’s cold kitchen
only the hungry cats lapping up
their morning meal / me
staring at the empty space
where Ramon / Mama once knelt
wishing I could hear the
blessed snap once more.



2-18-03