Nana’s Treasure

Ingrid Bruck

Hammered into shape,
dented by time,
bent with long use,
it’s made of tooled metal
crowned by a filagree wreath,
a piece of practical beauty
worth more than its weight in silver.

A girl of seventeen
goes to Woolworths Five & Dime Store,
buys it with her first pay as a nanny
working in the new world.

Hours, days, weeks,
years of her life,
she held it close at hand,
wore it as a shield,
but never shed another’s blood
to the stab of metal.

How I loved your busy hands,
always at work in your lap,
never too busy for me.
I hold your beloved thimble, Nana,
hear again the steady
chick-chick of needle on metal,
the soft click on glass
as you darn Grandaddy’s sock,
lightbulb tucked inside
to stretch the cloth,
to weave and repair.

For Aili Eckman


Ingrid Bruck poetIngrid Bruck is retired library director. A poet inspired by nature, she lives in Amish country in Pennsylvania, a landscape that inhabits her writing. She writes Japanese short form and short poems. She started submitting her work last winter and has 40 poems published or upcoming. Current work appears in Mataroyshka Poetry, Halcyon Days, and Leaves of Ink. Her published poetry website: