Minutes before I wash your sumptuous curls in warm water, with dish soap, no perfumed shampoo to be found, your voice drops susurrus syllables, mellifluous secrets between us, ethereal in hindsight, and not a baby picture of you hanging in this house. If I were to sit you down and say I believe you were [...]
Category: poetry
Poetry by Brenda Sutton Rose, Author of DOGWOOD BLUES.
Stains
When red clay's between my toes, and the sun's setting over my head, the ghost of my mother blows in, riding on a honeysuckle breeze, oh lord, riding on a honeysuckle breeze. Her teeth, the keys of a piano. I play her grinning ivory notes with cadenced fumbling fingers, splattered with paint, textured with [...]