"My mother arrives in the middle of the night,
and sleepily, we pile into her arms and hold tight. Her kiss on the top of my head reminds me of all that I love. Mostly her. It is late winter but my grandmother keeps the window in our room slightly open so that the cold fresh air can move over us as we sleep. Two thick quilts and the three of us side by side by side. This is all we know now-- Cold pine breezes, my grandmother’s quilts, the heat of the wood-burning stove, the sweet slow voices of the people around us, red dust wafting, then settling as though it’s said all that it needs to say. My mother tucks us back into our bed whispering, We have a home up North now. I am too sleepy to tell her that Greenville is home. That even in the wintertime, the crickets sing us to sleep. And tomorrow morning, you’ll get to meet your new baby brother. But I am already mostly asleep again, two arms wrapped tight around my mama’s hand." The imagery within this particular poem struck a certain chord within me. The dreamlike state that Jacqueline guides us through properly portrays how she experienced the moment of waking up in a groggy moment. She describes the cold breeze and the heat of the wood, the voices around them, the sounds of crickets in a moment of clarity in her awakening. They reflect as commonalities in such a moment, being woken up by the mother she does love and registering the familiar aspects of her home. Her mothers’ whispers in italics portray a smooth and soft tone, comforting and soothing Jacqueline back to sleep. The portrayal of every aspect in this poem reflects the sleepy tone of our narrator, providing the imagery of sound and familiarity with the layout of her home and her bed.
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