Wanda Coleman

(1946 - 2013)

A Stonehold - Poem by Wanda Coleman

the thief has made me a gift of his night's booty

somewhere, a daughter discovers her mother's coral
brooch missing, somewhere, a man recoils at the absence
of his gambling stash. somewhere, a miser rifles
over a vanished ransom in newly minted silver

all this to buy a hotbed of memories
to feed the children fresh-killed lies
to open all the locks on love

forever is a moment we hold in our stomachs

as he brushes the smudge of his kiss
across my lips, i smell the cologne of his fear
a robust and smoky aroma mingled
with the woody musk of courtrooms and the stench of
pain-paved alleyways

i take these things and promise to say mum

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, November 26, 2013

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