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--></style></head><body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink="#954F72" style='word-wrap:break-word'><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal>Me too:</p><p class=MsoNormal>No tears but that feeling deep in my chest of my own Grandfather with plastic covered couch and chair, a tall grandfather clock and his life working in a rubber plant making tires in downtown Detroit.</p><p class=MsoNormal>Dad, Grandpa and me would go fishing the Detroit river on weakends in a boat my dad built by hand and those were some special times.</p><p class=MsoNormal>Both were goood men with more life color than I want to go into or I too may get wet eyes.</p><p class=MsoNormal> Richard R. Thomas (Rick USA)</p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Sent from <a href="https://go.microsoft.com/fwlink/?LinkId=550986">Mail</a> for Windows</p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><div style='mso-element:para-border-div;border:none;border-top:solid #E1E1E1 1.0pt;padding:3.0pt 0in 0in 0in'><p class=MsoNormal style='border:none;padding:0in'><b>From: </b><a href="mailto:stylist@nfbnet.org">Janet Dinola Parmerter via Stylist</a><br><b>Sent: </b>Friday, January 13, 2023 4:56 PM<br><b>To: </b><a href="mailto:stylist@nfbnet.org">Writers' Division Mailing List</a><br><b>Cc: </b><a href="mailto:janet@parmertours.com">Janet Dinola Parmerter</a><br><b>Subject: </b>Re: [Stylist] ***Spam*** a poem from Poem a Day poets.org</p></div><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial",sans-serif'>As I thought of the fowl breath of my own immigrant grandfather WORKING IN THE U.S Rubber PLANT OF Naugatuck, Connecticut, this brought tears to my eyes. </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial",sans-serif'> </span><o:p></o:p></p><div><div style='border:none;border-top:solid #E1E1E1 1.0pt;padding:3.0pt 0in 0in 0in'><p class=MsoNormal><b>From:</b> Stylist <stylist-bounces@nfbnet.org> <b>On Behalf Of </b>Ann Chiappetta via Stylist<br><b>Sent:</b> Friday, January 13, 2023 10:32 AM<br><b>To:</b> 'Writers' Division Mailing List' <stylist@nfbnet.org><br><b>Cc:</b> Ann Chiappetta <anniecms64@gmail.com><br><b>Subject:</b> ***Spam*** [Stylist] a poem from Poem a Day poets.org<o:p></o:p></p></div></div><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Grandfather’s Breath<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Ray McNiece<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>You work. You work, Buddy. You work.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Word of immigrant get-ahead grind I hear<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>huffing through me, my grandfather’s breath,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>when he’d come in from Saturday’s keep-busy chores,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>fending up a calloused hand to stop<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>me from helping him, haggard cheeks puffing<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>out like grey t-shirts hung between tenements,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>doubled-over under thirty-five years a machine<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>repairman at the ball-bearing factory, ball-bearings<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>making everything run smoother—<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>especially torpedoes. He busted butt<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>for the war effort, for profiteers, for overtime pay<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>down-payment on a little box of his own,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>himself a refugee from the European economy,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>washed ashore after The War to End All Wars.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Cheap labor for the winners.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I hear his youth plodding through the hayfields<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>above Srednevas, and the train that wheezed<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>and lumbered to the Trieste, the boat where he heave-hoed<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>consumptive sister, one-two-overboard.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I hear him scuffling along factory smoke choked streets<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>of Cleveland, coughing out chunks of broken<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>English just to make it to Saturday morning balinca—<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>how he grunted off a week’s worth of grit<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>hurling wooden balls down the pressed dirt court,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>sweaty wisp of gray hair wagging from his forehead,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>This is how the world turns. You work hard. You practice.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>And I hear his claim as we climbed the steps<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>of Municipal Stadium, higher, into the cheap seats,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>slapping the flat of his hand against a girder,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I built this, Buddy. I built this.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>But mostly I hear how he’d catch<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>what was left of his breath after those Saturday chores,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>pouring out that one, long, tall cold beer<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>that Grandma allowed, holding it aloft,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>bubbles golden as hayfields above Srednavas,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>before savoring it down and taking up<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>the last task of his day off—cleaning the cage,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>letting Snowball, canary like the ones once used<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>to test coal mines for poison air, flap clumsily free<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>around the living room, crapping<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>on the plastic covered davenport and easy-chair<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>they only sat in twice a year.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>And I’m still breathing, Grandfather, that day<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>you took me down the basement to the cool floor<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>to find out what was wrong. Come on, Snowball,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>fly. Fly! The bird splayed out on the same linoleum<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>where they found you, next to your iron lung,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>where Grandma mopped for weeks after,<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>pointing with arthritic fingers, See. There.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>There’s where he fell and bumped his head.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>See the specks of blood?She can’t work out.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>One fine morning when my work is done<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>I’m gonna fly away home, fly away home.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Come on, Snowball, fly. Fly!<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Copyright © 2004 by Ray McNiece. From Bone Orchard Conga (WordSmith Press, 4th Edition, 2004). Used with the permission of the poet.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>Ann M. Chiappetta, M.S.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>Making Meaningful ConnectionsThrough Media <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>914.393.6605 USA<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><a href="mailto:Anniecms64@gmail.com"><span style='color:#0563C1'>Anniecms64@gmail.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>All things Annie: <a href="https://urldefense.proofpoint.com/v2/url?u=http-3A__www.annchiappetta.com&d=DwMFAg&c=euGZstcaTDllvimEN8b7jXrwqOf-v5A_CdpgnVfiiMM&r=reHprvDwsZOJBr-kahoQ-t_c6LAxRntHNA7PbEcwIB8&m=ijsZGdBtcwBfXnCqfbB_HzduRQnPwwIFug5FfxoHaaU&s=7X9YEENba7n4DgVV_MS9wGvaLaiqB4WhQdNOrV-BOjU&e="><span style='color:#0563C1'>www.annchiappetta.com</span></a> <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> <o:p></o:p></p><p> </p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'><img border=0 width=708 height=2 style='width:7.375in;height:.0208in' id="Horizontal_x0020_Line_x0020_1" src="cid:image001.png@01D928CB.0C6D44A0"><o:p></o:p></p><p>This email has been scanned for spam and viruses. 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