"Marilyn Nelson was born in Cleveland, Ohio, into a military family: she is the daughter of one of the last of the Tuskegee Airmen. Her mother was a teacher. [...] An accomplished poet and translator, Nelson has also written numerous books for children and young adults. She is a three-time finalist for the National Book Award, winner of the Robert Frost medal, and the recipient of fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and Guggenheim Foundation, among other honors."
The Century Quilt
for Sarah Mary Taylor, Quilter
My sister and I were in love
with Meema’ s Indian blanket.
We fell asleep under army green issued to Daddy by Supply.
When Meema came to live with us
she brought her medicines, her cane,
and the blanket I found on my sister’s bed
the last time I visited her.
I remembered how I’d planned to inherit
that blanket, how we used to wrap ourselves
at play in its folds and be chieftains
and princesses.
Now I’ve found a quilt
I’d like to die under;
Six Van Dyke brown squares,
two white ones, and one square
the yellowbrown of Mama’s cheeks.
Each square holds a sweet gum leaf
whose fingers I imagine
would caress me into the silence.
I think I’d have good dreams
for a hundred years under this quilt,
as Meema must have, under her blanket,
dreamed she was a girl again in Kentucky
among her yellow sisters,
their grandfather’s white family
nodding at them when they met.
When their father came home from his store
they cranked up the pianola
and all of the beautiful sisters
giggled and danced.
She must have dreamed about Mama
when the dancing was over:
a lanky girl trailing after her father
through his Oklahoma field.
Perhaps under this quilt
I’d dream of myself,
of my childhood of miracles,
of my father’s burnt umber pride,
my mother’s ochre gentleness.
Within the dream of myself
perhaps I’d meet my son
or my other child, as yet unconceived.
I’d call it The Century Quilt,
after its pattern of leaves.
from Mama's Promises (1985)
From How I Discovered Poetry (Dial Books, 2014)