Poetry by Brenda Sutton Rose, Author of DOGWOOD BLUES.
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 [...]
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 [...]
