Going Through Their Things
Shoes that will never see another ballroom.
Dresses somehow even beyond vintage.
Then I find a shoebox of photographs:
people I don’t remember with names longer
and more difficult than mine.
Except for one snapshot: my parents
standing beside a black-and-white cow
with an enormous udder.
On the back in my mother’s handwriting:
Me, my new husband and Cha-cha.
Here’s what I want to know, Mom. Who named
that cow after a dance none of you could do?
Going Through Their Things by Ron Koertge | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
20,00 US$Precio
