Death Quartet
1. Remains
A cardboard box cradled
my mother toward fire.
She came back
something wind’s breath
could shoo.
She hated
extravagance.
2. The Light Knife
Lightning struck our home,
the backyard tree hewn by light.
Grass scarred where the sky’s knife
opened its skin.
We dared death
to barge in.… Read the rest