For Elizabeth, Who Loved to Square Dance
I wore Grandma Liz's pearls
for play, a plastic strand long
enough to pool on the carpet
over my stubbed toes. When I pull
them over my head now, I smell
phantoms: cigarettes, Esteé
Lauder. I don't smoke or spritz
on perfume. I don't layer polyester
or perm my hair. I've slipped off
my wedding ring as she did, signed
divorce. What advice would she offer
for life between husbands? Wear red
lipstick and always leave it behind.
Copyright Credit: Poem copyright ©2016 by Christine Stewart-Nuñez, “For Elizabeth, Who Loved to Square Dance,” from Untrussed, (University of New Mexico Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of Christine Stewart-Nuñez and the publisher.