Grandma Ann by Arthur Russell

A clattering sound made me twitch back

to see it even though I’d been turning

away, but it turned out to be the rod

clattering slightly in the towel rack,

a sound like the clattering of dishes

when the children are jumping,

which reminded me of the earthquake,

a small one, that rattled the china

in the breakfront of the house at 34 Walnut

Street in Malden, when my dad was 8,

and how his mother, Grandma Ann, called out

down the stairs: Burton, stop that jumping!

That’s me, imitating his voice, imitating hers.

About the Poet:

Arthur Russell lives is a co-leader of the Red Wheelbarrow Workshop in Rutherford, NJ, and co-editor of the Red Wheelbarrow Journal.  He is the winner of Brooklyn Poets Poem of the Year 2015 and runner up for the same prize in 2021.  His first chapbook “Unbent Trumpet” (Nutley Arts Press 2017) sold out two printings.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: