Naphthalene Abuela
From the cedar closet she reached
for a bundle. Holding her breath,
she pushed her head through, pulling down to her torso.
Scattering moths as she walked through the hallway
Breathing only on the front end of her stride.
Copyright © Teresa Lanigan | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment