Enlightenment

by Jo Ann Baldinger

The moment must be memorable
and what is more indelible than pain

a cutlass slipped between two ribs
a shoulder whack for snoring in the zendo

the customary slap to the face
when a daughter enters into womanhood

though your mother didn’t wait that long
to deliver her essential truth

for you were five when you asked
how we know this is not a dream.

Instantly, as if she’d just been waiting
till you got around to ask,

she reached across the kitchen table
plucked a fold of skin from your arm

and pinched it –- you knew even then --
a little too hard, a bit too long.

That’s how you know, she said.