Uncle Ted Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

The first thing I remember
after that first bout
at the old National Guard Armory
on West Madison
and the long ride home
on the streetcar
was walking up
three flights
and into the kitchen

Ma had set the table
and baked pineapple
upside down cake.
A banner hung on the wall
WELCOME HOME
in red white and blue.

She was standing by the sink
wiping her eyes with a dishtowel

'Your Uncle Ted is dead.
Somewhere in France
they said.'

I remember the snow falling.
Streets filling with mounds of it.
I remember sitting at the table
with Ma as we watched snow
falling all that night.
Fields and woods in France
filled with snow
and he lay dead
somewhere in France.