Amado [Poetry]

September 23, 2018

He took his last breath in winter

after kissing her hand once more

she carefully chooses a tombstone engraved

Amado Esposo, Padre y Abuelo

that will be mounted in spring—

for now so naked, exposed

patches of dirt and snow melting

onto soggy drawings from grandkids—

colors spill onto brown crinkled roses, 

scattered

 

beneath the cracked soil

her love rests with hands folded

the seasons still change  

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