This piece was selected by our guest editor, Joe Russo.
“I feel it now—your face wreathed in pink flowers on a shelf, shadow of my boy on the sand.”
In Keeping by Carrie Bond
When I woke, she was stillasleep at the center of my bed
hair in tangles at her shoulders
And I felt a shock—
the woman residing
in this slight frame, blue-pale
skin beneath sheets
mouth now a flicker
of dreams close as breath.
Soon she’ll wake
to this same loss, one
that’s never quite complete.
I feel it now—your face
wreathed in pink flowers
on a shelf, shadow
of my boy on the sand.
We are all beachcombers
taking inventory:
a sill of dusty trinkets. See,
below the chrome fender
of an old farm truck
my father’s feet dangling.
*
Carrie Bond has a BA in English and an MA in English/Education from Brooklyn College. A former teacher, now a freelance editor, she writes when she’s not chasing two kids and other priorities. You can find some of her poems online in the Hamilton Stone Review.
Leave a Reply