NO ME ACUERDO

By Leota Brigida Harriman

and then there’s me, seeking, perhaps too late

to understand the mysteries of my grandmother's heart

“no me acuerdo,” she says, “no puedo”

when I ask what she thinks about 

in her bed

solitary

or maybe warmed by an aunt

curling herself against her

sometimes her eyes look frightened

and I wonder what she prays

hail mary, full of grace

now and at the hour of our death, amen

the hour of her death is what we all fear,

of course, what keeps the men away

and the women cleaning, cleaning

as if we could only get it clean enough for her to finally notice

purifying ourselves with bleach and pinesol

trying to remove every stain, every sin,

every selfish blemish from our terrified hearts

none of us know what we will do

when she leaves us

stands tall and walks down to the river

alone

In memory of Maria Brigida Mascareñas

1915 - 2004