on the coffee table
in my grandmother’s house
in a depression era green glass bowl
on a doily
that was handcrafted
by my great great aunt:
there was a mass of unwrapped peppermints
the pillowy kind
half crunchy half chewy
which had been there long enough
that they had grown together
inseparable
covered with a thin layer of dust
which my grandmother had begun to miss
in her daily cleanings
on the car ride home
i asked my mother why i couldn’t eat any of them
and she said
“that’s not what they’re for”
– Clio 07.08.21
