The Innisfree Poetry Journal
www.innisfreepoetry.org

by Ann Cale


NEWPORT NEWS SHIP BUILDER

for my grandfather, Meredith Sherman

There is the sensation of a man's mid-section
and the chain leading up to the pocket in his vest
and his gold watch pressed against my cheek.
There is the scent of summer and
Sycamore trees that run down a lane
that ends near the banks of the James River.
There is the feeling of crossing Huntington Street
and being lowered down to the edge
of some wooden stairs
that pass over a dune
littered with Dixie Cups and shells.
There is the pressure of a spoon
in my hand as I dig the red clay out of the cliffs
that stand in back of the beach.
I will struggle all morning to create
torsos, arms, legs, and heads,
and smiling faces with periwinkles stuck in them for eyes.
Mother and Father, Grandfather and Grandmother, I will name them
as my grandfather names the ships that pass by
on their way to Hampton Roads:
"The Yorktown," "The Hornet," and "The Enterprise."



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