Pleased to have three poems on Softblow Poetry Journal today. Here is the first poem and the link.
A death in the family
We hustle it all to the dumpster
couches and chairs
lamps, rugs and bedding,
on every flat surface.
It’s just stuff now
and we’d like to clear the place
in time for lunch
and an early flight home.
Stories inhabit our belongings
and make them dear.
And you were so good at the telling—
your face softening with delight
as you’d describe a complicated deal
involving your great uncle Saul,
a second-hand store,
and a horse-drawn cart.
It made the rickety dining room table
seem like a gift from the Romanovs.
For a minute,
I think of my home
how long it will take the kids
to empty it.
But this is no time for reflection—
the sleep sofa
is heavy and oddly weighted
and the dumpster seems
farther away with every load.