Daily Poem: Fiction ~ Keith Leonard
Fiction
~ Keith Leonard
If I get the story right,
my mother’s grief
will melt back into sand—
just enough for a shoreline
the size of her driveway.
We could hold our shoes
by their heels without talking.
In this version, I know
the password to leaven
the latch of fingers
wrapped around aluminum.
I hold a compact mirror
up to her nose to see the fog
of the living. If I get the story
right, a fog will settle
over the shore and there
will be no other place to look
but at each other.
