New Shape of Family
By Emi Bergquist
Instigated by brightless days like
childhood and how far we’ve come
from trying to figure out who was playing
good cop or bad cop and aren’t all cops
from that town the same kind of bastard anyway?
Yet we cannot easily forget what was once familiar -
the dust in our lungs and dirt on the bottom
of our feet, the smallness we felt surrounded
by mountains with their looming shadows,
calling the basement of that pink house
on the corner of despair and loneliness home
and then running away from it. This is to say,
the good times were like Christmas morning:
the smell of Swedish pancakes wafting from
our grandparent’s kitchen, that pleated
knit tablecloth from the 70’s on the dining room
table where we sat and said grace before we ate from
those blue paisley patterned plates, and Mor-Mor
with her bald head and silver cap tooth smile.
Someone once told me that it is not
where we come from but who we come from
that matters. But how do you reclaim an identity
you never knew when the only tradition
you have is the inheritance of your blood?
This is to say, we now stand on the other side
of those memories, recycling the past
to create this new shape of family. I watch
as your son discovers his own cleverness
around every corner, growing with the same
sense of wild freedom you once planted in me. And
from these fields, we’ve harvested more than dreams.
Emi Bergquist is a Brooklyn based poet originally from Idaho. Emi is an active associate of the Poetry Society of New York, a regular cast member of The Poetry Brothel, an editor of Milk Press Books, and is a current collaborator with the Pandemic Poems Project. She has recent work in Oxford Public Philosophy, What Rough Beast, Oroboro, Passengers Journal, and others. She also regularly writes commissioned poetry and is currently donating all proceeds to charity and social justice organizations. For more information on collaborations and commissions, you can reach her at emilykbergquist@gmail.com.