Photograph by Reka Jellema. June 2011. Untitled. For Addie.
Unraveling
Plastic taste of water in her jug, loose threads in a crocheted rug How long before it unravels Remembering my ball in the boot Just wanna kick it, kick it and run My feet punching holes in the snow Mum yellin' at me -- for doin' nothin' Grabbin' me in a hug squeezin' the breath outta me, she reckons Nana's better off here She's far better off there, Sis Look at her she doesn't even know you anymore, and this place look at it No, I don't mean it like that You know I don't mean Don't look at me like that I called I wrote I came back didn't I? How could he look at me that way? he was a liar, a prattler, like Da. My raw bones crawl into the edges of that shawl The one Mum crocheted her fingers gray and worn This bench is cold and on the road a car slow and shined as death drives by it's hard to breathe-- the playground bairns stare snowballs at me Mum is near a memory I'm losing my way home With Kathryn Ross and Brendan Bonsack By Kathryn Ross, Brendan Bonsack, and Reka Jellema October 2014
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 no one planted gods in the dirt parted earth grandfathered sunflowers taller than towers no one grew seedlings that reached any harder By Reka Jellema August 2014   I want my body back though
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