| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
The Names of the Trees
Laura Kasischke
I passed this place once long ago
when a man lived here with his four
daughters, peacefully, it seemed. Those
daughters took turns washing
feathers in a sink. Soft
socks, warm towels, folded, clean, in
closets, drawers, and baskets, and
on shelves. To me
this was astonishing. The laundry
done by daughters! No
mother in the house at all. A weeping
yard, but it was not a symbol then.
It could not have been
because this was the only tree
I knew the name of yet -- unless it was a tree
that bore familiar fruit. Like
an apple tree, a mulberry. This
willow's branches did not seem to be
branches at all to me, but
girlishly. If there was any weeping, it
was inaudible to me. (Was
I supposed to see it?) One
of the daughters was only
a year ahead of me, and she
invited me (once) inside because
she wanted to play house with me. When
house might mean, this girl
said she would teach me.
She was Mother for this reason.
I was the family dog. She
told me to eat Froot Loops
from a bowl on the kitchen floor
while on my hands and knees. We
laughed when I couldn't do it. But when
I was Mother, she
couldn't do it either.
That there was laughter!
A blue tablecloth5.
Salt and pepper shakers shaped
like hands, which, put
together, appeared to pray. When
I was thirsty, another daughter poured
a cup of water for me, pouring
water with such confidence it
seemed to me that she
might have poured the first water
from the first tap. When, out
into their bathroom and pretended to pee
I witnessed toilet paper printed with
forget-me-nots, along with a little dish
that held a piece of pink soap in it.
And, when, after this, I couldn't sleep
for three nights in a row, my
mother finally gave up
trying to comfort me.
点击  收听单词发音
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
上一篇：Road Trip 下一篇：Famous Negro Athletes |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
- 发表评论
-
- 最新评论 进入详细评论页>>
