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.