this is a beret
it was given to me
when I was very young
by my grandmother
although
now
I cannot remember which
my grandmother
(mother’s mother)
has a knack for
the finer things in life
for generosity
(towards all people, overflowing)
and for angels
she is large
in all the ways a person can be large
at five feet tall
and lost one of her children
much too early
she sings loudly, and often
gracious and flippant
offered me my first drink
(a margarita)
with arms open
she knows what’s best for you
or
at least
she tries
(you love her for it)
the beret could easily be hers
you learned french for
the tone of your mother’s voice
(throwing money in the air)
(the good life)
(the best life)
however
the beret was not
passed down to me
from my mother
it was given to me
directly–
an addition to an overflowing
costume box
you don’t know
why
you still have it
it does not fit you well
my grandmother
(father’s mother)
has a knack for
getting by
for collecting trinkets
(shaped like her last name)
and for birds
she is full
in all the ways a person can be full
at five feet tall
and lost one of her children
earlier still
she is a keeper of traditions
a very specific feeling
that floats within the glasses of sun tea
my father makes
on good days
and in the intention of
building something
to last
the beret could easily be hers
it is modest and
made of thick wool
(putting love in everything)
(the best life)
(the good life)
but it was never
given to my father
or any of her children
who would have needed it more
than a ten year old
too old to play
pretend
now
it hangs
on the wall of my
bedroom
this could have belonged
to either of my grandmothers
but now
it belongs
to me