Elizabeth Romero: My Aunt’s Pantry

I always loved my aunt’s pantry:

The mingled scents of spices,

Flour, sugar, crackers.

The rows of cans and jars

In order: pickled things, beans, mincemeat.

It was a holiday, I think.

Or maybe just a Sunday when we visited.

I know I was back in my bunk

Above Karin Nelson

At school that night.

Everyone was in the living room.

I was always wandering off: something

Always drew me, the windows, the cat.

I’m stalling, I don’t want to tell you

How everything changed.

How my uncle came in,

Murmuring innocuously about crackers

And tracing circles on my back

With his fingers.

Closer and yet closer until

I could feel his quickening breath

Upon my ear.

I was frozen staring at the turkey

On the box of Bell’s Seasoning.

I still cannot see one without

Thinking of that moment. He pressed

The lower regions of his body

Against the lower regions of mine.

It took everything, every bit of strength I had,

To say, The others will be missing us.

He turned on his heel and left.

Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Romero