Grieve now

You should have it out now.
Mourn, keen, cry—
whatever it takes.

When Steinbeck killed him,
you didn’t know it was coming.
Though he did it eighty years ago,
the mercy is fresh
(the murder is fresh).

That’s how it is now, for you.
This news, this death is fresh,
though the body is cold,
the pain still pulses.

Nichole M. Dulin


Anna’s gone


I brought her jellybeans. They’re low in sodium and she liked them, though God knows why. I could never stand them myself.

I had driven there alone. I didn’t want to go, but it was Mother’s Day and I had made a promise. It was hard to find; down winding roads between old colonials, cemeteries, and churches. It was in town, but tucked behind some historic building that was now a law office. The grass was long. It was a wet spring. I guess I knew the grass grew fast, but I felt it as a bad omen. What other care was slipping through the cracks? Continue reading