Breaking Water - Nancy Byrne Iannucci

Breaking Water

My brother woke from a deep sleep,
and cried when he realized
he wasn’t eleven.

He cries when he’s awake,
never showing rain or thunder,
but you can see it in his face,

wrinkles of resentment,
a worn grill from sunnier days,
kicking cannonballs

across Grumman Field.
He listens to the Doobie Brothers
to remember the smell

of our old, wood paneled station wagon,
sweaty, sleepy, the windows down,
full of carnival sounds:

ref whistles, half-time hotdog stands,
Coke vs. Pepsi taste tests,
and popcorn street bands.

Standing on the backseat,
barefoot, next to his sister,
he was always ready

to jump off the jetty
without wavering,
without the wavering

that plagues him now,
but when his first child
is born come August,

he will relive these days
through a new life,
and will wake up

from a deep sleep
to a cry that won’t
be his.

Previously published in 34 Orchard

Nancy Byrne Iannucci is a poet from Long Island, New York who currently lives in Troy, NY with her two cats: Nash and Emily Dickinson.  San Pedro River Review, 34 Orchard, Defenestration, Hobo Camp Review, Bending Genres, The Mantle, Typehouse Literary Magazine, and Glass: a Poetry Journal are some of the places you will find her. She is the author of three chapbooks, Temptation of Wood (Nixes Mate Review, 2018), Goblin Fruit (Impspired, 2021), and Primitive Prayer (Plan B Press, fall 2022). Visit her at www.nancybyrneiannucci.com  Instagram: @nancybyrneiannucci: