An orange fist sticks out of a bureau drawer
catches my eye, a square of Mother’s black and many-colored
afghan we brought back from Florida last winter
along with quilts, costume jewelry and ceramics—
politely accepted, stored away in darkness, forgotten.
Glow of neon yarn on November morning
reminds me Ruby will never
crochet or stitch again
dress for church
paint another plate.
The hunter will find Continue reading “Jan Chronister, Spring•Summer 2017”