Renée Owen
Tomfoolery
Another summer with Cousin M in his Blue Ridge backyard. Bow and arrows made of sticks, the too-big cowboy hat and boots. A blur of motion, he chases me, toy holster dangling from his skinny waist. We charge around in circles in the heat till I get the woozies and collapse under the grape arbor. He runs next door for his strict old granny, who never did like me. As if far away over the mountain, I faintly hear Nanny hollering, What kind of tomfoolery are you up to now girl? Groggy, I wake later in a big bed in her back room. Heavy curtains drawn, spooky white sheets over dark furniture. Dozing in and out until my own sweet MawMaw comes, dabbing at my tears with her hankie. She talks Uncle S into carrying me down the hill to her little house. From the back bedroom, crackling smells of frying chicken. Out the window, tall stalks of corn catch the late afternoon light.
the weight
of her cornbread
last night train
About the Author
Renée Owen’s award-winning books include This One Life (Backbone Press), Alone On A Wild Coast (Snapshot Press), and Scent of the Past … Imperfect (Two Autumns Press). A psychotherapist and an exhibiting visual artist, she enjoys performing her poetry with her musician husband and hiking the wilds near their Northern California home.