1968

Antoinette F. Winstead

June 9, 2021

When I was a little girl, 

not but three or four,

Daddy went off to war.

And while he was fighting the Viet-Cong,

Mommy and I moved into the attic

of the house where he was born.

The steps to this attic

narrow and steep 

proved too treacherous

for my young, uncoordinated feet

and one day I tumbled head over heels

landing at the bottom in a crumpled heap.

Forbidden to ever climb the stairs alone,

my uncle became my personal chaperone.

One cannot imagine all

a child with a human chariot can forget, 

a crayon, a doll, a coloring book,

un-fetchable without direct supervision,

so aloft his back my uncle carried me

up and down, again and again, no objections.

Then one morning, 

late in the autumn, 

a uniformed stranger 

swept me up in his arms, 

declared me his daughter,

relieving my uncle of his carrier honors.

And though many things I no longer recollect, 

I’ll never ever forget the year of my personal, uncle chariot.

Antoinette F. Winstead, a poet, playwright, director, and actor, teaches film and theater courses at Our Lady of the Lake University where she serves as the Program Head for the Mass Communication and Drama programs. Her poetry has been published in TejasCovido, Langdon Review of the Arts in Texas, Voice de la Luna, Jerry Jazz Musician, and The Woman Inc.