My Own Breasts- a poem by Rebecca Buchanan

Pulling back the sheet
I expose her naked body

Her breasts
Delicate folds of skin
That lie softly above
The rise of her belly

Her dark nipples tucked away
In a cradle of warm flesh

The patch of hair
Between her legs
Is a wisp of cloud
Barely covering
The moon

Her legs are lean
And her bones are strong

She moves
In her sleep

I close my eyes

She is a girl again

A tall stalk
Of sunflower
In a field of weeds

I touch her cool
Loose skin

I look at her . . .

I can’t help myself

The nurse
Tells me
To pull

I lift the sheet
And pull her toward
My own breasts

The nurse slips her
Between the bed
And her
Her back
And together
And we roll
Her over

“Look at the frown
On grandmother’s face”

“Her wrinkled brow
Her wild hair spreading
Over the pillow”

-A bundle of unraveled thread
eighty-seven years old

I have barely
Had a day to
Sit in her kitchen
And sip her sweet tea

But I am here now
And I intend
To pack her things

Carry boxes to the curb
Tape the broken windows
Lock the doors
Leave alone