What’s your Name?
by Lauren Sisourath, Strathcona Baptist Girls Grammar School
Winner, Years 7 – 8, written poetry
We planted peach seeds,
beneath the tree.
He told me they would grow,
we were so carefree.
My grandpa and I,
in the green, rolling fields.
Soil, wind, water.
Nature – a battlefield.
It only seems like yesterday,
when everything was fine.
But no matter how hard I try,
I’m no longer nine.
My grandpa turns to me.
“It’s such a shame.”
He sips his tea.
“But what’s your name?”
I squeeze my eyes shut;
try not to cry.
“Never mind,” I whisper,
my tongue stone dry.
I’m not the girl I used to be-
nine years old and pure.
Now I know, deep in my gut-
some pain doesn’t have a cure.
His hands still smell of jasmine tea,
his sweater frayed with age.
I feel grateful in my heart-
for things that do not change.
He doesn’t seem to notice-
that I’m even there.
I speak but he won’t turn.
His eyes drift pass my chair.
I feel a pain, ricochet,
as bullets stab my skin.
No matter what I do-
I can never win.
Dementia took my grandpa,
his memories are gone.
I’m like the cratered moon.
Never to see dawn.
The next day he asks me,
“What’s your name?”
The day after,
“What’s your name?”
“Grandpa,” I whisper.
“I’m so sorry for this fate.”
“I wasn’t grateful,” I cry.
“Until it was too late.”
I still taste the sweetness of a peach,
beneath the canopy of trees.
The seeds are still there waiting for him.
Just like me.
And to this gnawing feeling,
this vague emotion that claws at my chest.
That makes me want to cry,
a feeling I once suppressed…
What’s your name?
Want to read more poems? Explore the other Years 7 – 8 finalists.