To Edna

The first time I saw you cry,
even the flies got wet,
worms scrambled like Israelites
before chariots and damp chaos.

I never knew your aunt,
but maybe this was your first
touch of dying.

You told me she gave you Chex
on the brittle days, cookies
on the soft lazy days,

Spoke Danish and laughed
because the horses knew the ways
and all the sisters were named for flowers.

The rocks tumble into the glade,
and all the flowers wither,
flies are pummeled,
and the nightcrawlers
drag the mapleseed down.

◄ Splattershot #2

Forgotten Sloop Dreams ►

Comments

No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message