POETRY Nancy Duci Denofio

Watching Rings of Smoke

Every afternoon our eyes
met – she stared like the
grocery man – and my friend's. . .
She sits to rest on a metal
milk box – our side homogenized
grandmother upstairs –
pasteurized. . .

She takes a swig from a
bottle of beer, lights a Chester –
field. Smoking - she calls it,
she takes it, inside – holds
it. . . for a long – time before
floating out her nose like a cloud.

Her mouth a circle of rings
of smoke - exiting her lip’s,
divided by her tongue. . .
All Mamas in the neighborhood
smoke cigarettes –
wear halter tops, and a red
kerchief on her forehead to
keep sweat from rolling down
their faces onto a tube top –

All Mamas wear tube tops. . .
shove Kleenex inside to look
big. . .
You watch what your mother
does.

Nancy Duci Denofio