Poem. Joshua Gage. Confession.

CONFESSION

Grandmother,
too many times I try to wash off
the stars of your stigmata
only to smell of lavender.

I sip free coffee
at a Woolworth’s counter,
try to swallow the coin
you slipped my tongue as I slept.

Do you still yearn
to come back a grizzly,
gold button in your ear?
At night I whisper,
like chipped porcelain,
prayers I can’t remember.

We will plant you at the roots of a Pacific mountain,
a seam of taconite
in a gingham dress.

I will flaw every quilt after you,
sew a square of red at the center.
When my stitching frays, promise
paw prints in the bunting.

One Response to “Poem. Joshua Gage. Confession.”

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  1. get your Winter issue: photoessays, memoir, short fiction, interviews, and 14 poets | pea river journal - March 24, 2013

    […] Poem. Joshua Gage. Confession. […]

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