The One I Think of Now

By Wesley McNair b. 1941 Wesley McNair

At the end of my stepfather’s life

when his anger was gone,

and the saplings of his failed

nursery had grown into trees,

my newly feminist mother had him

in the kitchen to pay for all

those years he only did the carving.

“You know where that is,”

she would say as he looked

for a knife to cut the cheese

and a tray to serve it with,

his apron wide as a dress

above his workboots, confused

as a girl. He is the one I think of now,

lifting the tray for my family,

the guests, until at last he comes

to me. And I, no less confused,

look down from his hurt eyes as if

there were nothing between us

except an arrangement of cheese,

and not this bafflement, these

almost tender hands that once

swung hammers and drove machines

and insisted that I learn to be a man.

Biography

Often referred to as “a poet of place,” Wesley McNair captures the ordinary lives of northern New Englanders while writing about family conflict and other autobiographical subjects. His poems often explore American dreams interwoven with family drama and public culture. A New Hampshire native who has lived for many years in Mercer, Maine, McNair has authored more than half a dozen collections of poetry, including The Faces of . . .

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