Sunday, January 9, 2011

it started last winter


you never meant to kill the kids
but while you baptized them they drowned
skinny white shoulders between your hands
cold river quiet and ashamed
crying like a dog at your knees

now my best friend writes out prayers in her bedroom
while the afternoon rains on her windowsill


1 comment:

Anna-Maria said...

this is good,
so write more

 

yasmin