Grandmama Swims with Water Moccasin
Rain dances with leaves. Arthritic
limbs scratch at unhinged shutters,
window panes scream at the wind.
I want to run, but can only hide —
Grandmama’s glare threatens me into silent prayer.
Roof tiles frisbee across the yard,
the water moccasin swims passed our stoop.
Water devours one step, two steps,
three feet to my own four-foot-two.
Grandmama’s hurricane lamps glow with false hope.
A canoe crosses the street, full
of other Grandmama’s little girls.
An old woman comes in with the tide
and she will go out the same.
“Don’t fear death, child, and you won’t fear life”
is easy to say when you’re eighty-four.
Christina writes under the pseudonym C Evans Mylonas to maintain gender neutrality. She has had short stories and poems published in several literary journals, including The Bangalore Review and Atticus Review. Christina is also a photographer and has a photo essay in Skipping Stones Magazine.
Christina grew up in Texas and, though she has lost most of her accent many of her characters have not. She is a fan of Southern writers with their quirky and eccentric characters and you can see their influence in her work. She is currently editing the draft of a western novel.