Thank you for taking time to read the material posted here. I would be pleased if you could comment, and I promise to comment back. Sincerely, Nancy


Thursday, June 24, 2010


One morning on my way to school,
I took the orange pills from our window
ledge – facing Seneca Street where
mother watches me if I run to fetch
something from the big market. . .
I had taken them from the ledge, stuffed
them into the pocket of a freshly starched
pink flowered dress.

Behind grandmother’s bushes near
red beans I used to make mud pies,
I removed the top.

All those orange pills stare at me, like
the eyes of those in our neighborhood.

I chew one - chewed it – then - started to
walk; first past Charlie’s Grocery – he
wasn’t in his rocker - chewing on his

I walked down Avenue A toward my
school, noticed one of mother’s friends
beating a rug against the railing of her
porch. She never looked my way.

I took another orange pill from the jar,
and chewed it - glanced back toward
the porch, waved to mother’s friend,
sneaking the bottle back into
my pocket.

I thought I took enough
to live.

“Twinkle - Twinkle Little Star….”

Humming the song to myself, leaning
my head against the push out window
of our Studebaker,

“How I wonder what you are?”

I began to draw stick figures on the window
of our Studebaker - rubbing it clean –
breathing – rubbing – breathing – rubbing
and drawing, erasing it – exhaling,
breathing, drawing, and erasing it . . .

“Up above the world so high.”
I believe it was my first time to fly.

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved

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