Heinz

Looking back on that day, watching it all Like the Ghost of Birthday past In mind and body, I’m now tall There I am, Five years old in a strawberry-print jumper. The picnic table sat in the backyard of Cherrywood. In unison, they all chorused, “Happy Birthday to you!” The smile was plastered to my face. The glue just wasn’t holding steady. Sudden screams from inside reverberated the house. Smashing glass, slamming doors, and then- silence. The duet made by this debate Between the tenor and the base A tune, the voices create. Not a cheerful song- Just the kind you haven’t heard in a while. My mother appears with her pristine smile. The one that looks painted on. Its colors flash from bright to dull As its reluctance outshines even an ice cream cake. I swivel around, “Mom, where’s Dad?” Soon I am hushed and exhale for wishes’ sake. My family surrounds me; an eager yet subdued light in their eyes. Aunt Jane grabs my mom’s arm and pulls her aside. Shaking her head, Nana cuts the cake While Kate and Emily pull me toward the slide. Grandpa goes on and has a smoke, and a PBR to boot. Thinking back to when I was still that small, I will never forget the vivid image from that day. Little me returned inside and found the wake-up call: A shattered ketchup bottle on the kitchen floor. A gasp, but no words, and tears came out to play. Red splattered on white cabinets like a crime scene. Something beautiful did die that day, after all, In the eyes of this little girl, No matter how long it took to arrange the 'funeral.’