By Raya Finkle
Standing.
Hands clasped behind the small of the back
head bowed slightly to the sun
staring at a grave
sunk into the sleepy
nap-tousled preschool
headstone lot.
Ages dating to Revolutions, or maybe his grandfather
that he loses to the fog of age, like paper yellowing,
curling,
gnawed at by mice.
But the face, the blue-eyed ice
never leaves his mind.
Hands over his
winding up the fishing line
one more time.
Tripped on the boat, sweating containers of water.
Busch Light cans rusting on deck.
Distant splashes of flopping fins, promising bluegill and sea trout
and not always pulling them in, but it is called
fishing,
not catching
after all.
And now, gray-haired,
standing.
Trying to remember what else
the old man would say.
Raya Finkle is a 21 year old, non-binary, queer poet living in Oregon. They love writing and heal through poetry.
Ann Calandro is a writer, artist, and classical piano student. Her short stories have been accepted by The Vincent Brothers Review, Gargoyle, Lit Camp, The Fabulist, The Plentitudes, and other literary journals. Duck Lake Books published her poetry chapbook in 2020. Calandro’s artwork appeared in juried exhibits and in Mayday, Nunum, Bracken, Zoetic Press, Mud Season Review, Stoneboat, and other journals. Shanti Arts published three children’s books that she wrote and illustrated. See more at www.anncalandro.webs.com. Submitted piece is a mixed media collage.