Untitled #16

my grandmother's monogram
on the old-fashioned linen tablecloth
hemmed with a crocheted border
bleached and starched - like ice,
my grandmother used to say, when during summer's
hottest days she would open the linen chests and lift out
tablecloths, pillow cases (my great-grandmother's
checkered ones and her own white ones)
lighter and heavier linens, towels, bedspreads,
sheets and scarves
and when the two of us carried them out
and hung them on the fences
and when we aired out the linen chests, where dried
tobacco leaves, crackling, crumbling to powder,
kept away the moths
and St. Agatha's bread, wrapped in a small handkerchief,
protected against fire...
my grandmother's monogram
embroidered in a cross with red thread
a small crown
and under it
MD