on the East Coast where I grew up
between Thanksgiving and
Christmas out would come a
wooden bowl overflowing with
un-shucked filberts pecans walnuts
and Brazil nuts
and sprawled on the little brown
boulders were a pair of hinged silver
handles – the single purpose nutcracker
which you’d slide around a shell
find the perfect breaking point and
squeeze hoping to release the pearl
unharmed for a quick pop in the mouth
that was my life then
crammed in a shell wondering who
or what could crack me open
still intact and undamaged
and it was always those Brazil nuts
that shattered into so many pieces
they were never worth picking up
Comments