To Nattie Poem by Theresa Dould Cummings

To Nattie

She stood aside the
Fire burning in the rusted barrel
It was bitter cold and lonely.
The sound of the clinic nurses voice
Reverberating the same thing over and over
‘No more time’.
As the wood in the barrel spitted and smoked.
Memories of home came upon the stiff frigid breeze.
She yanked the tattered blanket to her chin and
muttered something about time.
Old and tired and poor and now dying
She thought about the woman she had seen in the mirror
So very long ago.
Now and then her mothers voice would ease away the heavy night.
The tinkling of empty china teacups wanting more.
So, this is how it ends.
No more sips of Salvation coffee.
Sleep away the discontented past.
Ask the nurse again.
And the answer is the same.


Theresa Dould Cummings© 5/18/1997