chilly passover

Today, I’m sharing the first and last stanzas of “chilly passover”:

 make a rubbing of me, darling

charcoal your fingers

trace me with onion skin paper

smudge my harsh lines

I used to love the smell of a snuffed out candle

I can still hear you

you can’t take a shortcut

you walk towards my open earth

you want to bury yourself in me

but all you can do now is

throw dirt on my casket

© 8 March 2018

Cindy B. Stevens

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