April 26, 2024
Amy Lemmon is the author of five poetry collections, including Saint Nobody (Red Hen Press) and The Miracles (C&R Press). Her work has appeared in The Best American Poetry, Rolling Stone, New Letters, Prairie Schooner, Court Green, The Journal, and elsewhere. She is Professor of English at the Fashion Institute of Technology-SUNY and lives in Astoria, New York. amylemmon.com Instagram: @thatAmyLemmon
Amy Lemmon – Poem for April 26
26
Baby brother, prone to asthma,
red-faced with chicken pox, your birthday
montage scrolls—a toy Volkswagen beetle,
three sibling pals, linked by skinny arms
in matching red-white-blue. The Darlings’
doppelgangers, playing Peter Pan.
Tornado season: we built a basement fort.
Beneath the pink striped coverlet we laughed
and then we prayed. Almighty God, lead us to safety.
One Easter Sunday Mom went into labor—
more babies meant less Mom, more chores.
When the dishwasher broke, we were the dishwashers.
The summer I turned 26 we brainstormed
get-rich schemes—T-shirt slogans, band names.
Our lives were dull. Our futures shone ahead.
What we don’t mention: Your God told you
You can fly! You can fly! You can fly! Our parents
in the waiting room. A Mighty Fortress.
You pray for me. Here is my prayer for you:
Rest. Rest and safety, the freedom of open eyes,
and love within the solid bounds of earth.