Oblivious at the Commune in Cambridge
by Shana Hill
My uncle visits from Bolivia. Strings a tire swing
too high so I can grow into it, low
enough I can reach inside its hollow where he hid the sweet
cocoa bars wrapped in boxed foil, filled with cherry
flavors that will ooze. Foreign not Hershey. Oh
save these, Mom says. Helps me. Tells me Come
to the kitchen. I watch her place each bar in
the freezer. My favorite birthday gift. I’m four
and small. So when I am ready to
eat I need someone to carry
me to the icebox. To lift me
so I can reach inside their icy home.
I paw the container. Empty. The door swing-
ing shut. Where did they go? They bring me low
to where I wonder. Gone to heaven, my sweet
gifts? In this world, stoned grownups watch the chariot
in Ben Hur. Laugh at the airplane coming
overhead, the poor continuity. My four
chocolate bars are stolen. They won’t admit. Too
many adults in this commune. And they carry
on about freedom and justice. Me
learning what it means to share a home.
Golden Shovel: “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” composed by Wallis Willis
Shana Hill’s poetry has appeared in Naugatuck River Review, Ocean State Review, San Pedro River Review, and Slipstream Magazine. Her poem, “Tied,” published by the museum of americana, was a 2020 Best of The Net finalist. She is a co-editor on Essential Voices: A COVID-19 Anthology (WVU Press, July 2023). Shana is a member of the Poemworks Collective of Boston and is the founder of Poetica Pastor, a business which assists writers in the publication process.
