Guidebooks for the Dead Poem by Cynthia Cruz
Guidebooks for the Dead
Rating: ★5.0
Mother's crimson leather bags
Crammed with saint cards
And tiny glass bottles of liquor.
The bright stitch
Of God's final coming.
Dirt and dregs, silt and stars.
The sweet song
Of poverty
Rinsing through me
Like the memory
Of a dream.
Friday, June 12, 2015
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5/5/2024 5:33:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A short, sweet, nostalgic poem