Happy National Poetry Month, folks!
I have no idea what poetic practice (if any!) I’ll stick to for the whole month — but it felt appropriate to at least write a poem on Day 1. And completed with seven minutes to spare, no less!
Let it never be said that I don’t like to live on the edge…
King of Pentacles
The night my mother drank chardonnay until 4 am in a friend’s kitchen
looking for a third answer to the question
stay or go
I too sat in a kitchen
cradling my father in my arms and praying
hail Mary full of grace—someday
let her mail me the map