for SH
The morning after is what I remember best, three survivors hunkered over cereal & bread, my mother dodging questions as if they were weak spots in the pinewood floor. Phantom father, in dreams I still hover in that second-story window where once I clenched my eyes, praying for you to change your mind, for the lion on the cross to change it for you. I scream behind glass, your ’63 Buick crumbling in the oak trees – then a swarm of silence, swarm of laughter.
©
John Amen is the author of several collections of poetry, including Illusion of an Overwhelm, a finalist for the 2018 Brockman-Campbell Award. His poetry and prose have appeared recently or are forthcoming in American Literary Review, Colorado Review, Tupelo Quarterly, Brooklyn Rail, and Prairie Schooner, among other publications. He founded and is the managing editor of Pedestal Magazine. His Facebook page is: https://www.facebook.com/johncamen