poetry

The Widow
by Bryan Mari Argos

May heaven bless
Auntie Mimi
for in the years
after Uncle Buboy
left her
for celestial embraces
that are warmer than hers,
she has faithfully prayed the rosary;
but most of the time,
when I see her
through the eternal crack
of the ancient door
to her room,
she would roll a single bead
between her fingers,
while her eyes roll
towards heaven
and warm,
viscid
tears
trickle
down
her thighs.

back to poetry | home