“Pecan Pantoum” by Aubrey Brady
Pecan Pantoum
I pull at the pecan husk
attempting to extract the sweet meat
I remember from my childhood.
We would travel for days
to extract the sweetness
of warm winters.
We would travel for days
and across and through and towards
the warmth of winter
in New Mexico’s dry heat,
across and through and towards long stretches
of nothing, and sand, and family.
In New Mexico’s dry heat
we would bundle together
and do nothing but sled white sands
and build long blurry memories
that now blend together,
a kernel spot blighting
and blurring the built memories —
the bitter bite of love.
That kernel spot is now extending
over my grandma’s mind
as she slowly forgets
the bitter and the sweet.
My grandma, the last link
to the complex simplicity
of remembered childhood,
of the pecan’s solid husk.
Photo Credit: Staff