AFTERWARDS — HOLLY DAY

 

as death—“what’s happened to my son?”

the eyes, so tightly closed

elvin frail and pale

questions she should never ask.

 

screams and tries to look behind the smile

reclining in his midnight coffin

pulls apart his lids

in hope of finding answers.

 

 


Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in Plainsongs, The Long Islander, and The Nashwaak Review. Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press), In This Place, She Is Her Own (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), A Wall to Protect Your Eyes (Pski’s Porch Publishing), I’m in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.), The Yellow Dot of a Daisy (Alien Buddha Press), Folios of Dried Flowers and Pressed Birds (Cyberwit.net), and Where We Went Wrong (Clare Songbirds Publishing).

Photo credit: By Nevit Dilmen – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1388161.

 

 

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