by Mercedes Lawry
Rude awakenings and empty salt shakers and the muddy grey of late October
sifting behind golden trees, another day of dizzy wind and cruelty, the category
of dark souls exploding as headshakes rattle and outrage, draped in secondhand
clothes, slumps out of a dusty corner with a half-spent groan. How power with
its blood-soaked robes, fingers bent, grasping at the shiny, never reveals a tender
spot. How the aftermath lingers.
Mercedes Lawry has published poetry in such journals as Poetry, Nimrod, and Prairie Schooner, and three chapbooks, including, In the Early Garden with Reason, selected by Molly Peacock. She’s been nominated for a Pushcart seven times and has published short fiction, essays and stories and poems for children.
