FOUR FEATHERS PRESS ONLINE EDITION: DEAD DAYS Send up to three poems on the subject of or at least mentioning the words dead and/or day, totaling up to 150 lines in length, in the body of an email message or attached in a Word file to donkingfishercampbell@gmail.com by 11:59 PM PST on November 15th. No PDF's please. Color artwork is also desired. Please send in JPG form. No late submissions accepted. Poets and artists published in Four Feathers Press Online Edition: Dead Days will be published online and invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, November 16th between 3 and 5 pm PST.

Thursday, November 14, 2024

Gabby Gilliam

On This Day


12 years ago 

my dad danced with me 

for the first and last time 

before giving me away


11 months ago 

an oven reduced him to ash 

an entire life in less than a shoebox


10 days ago 

I began my first new year 

that won’t include him


9 hours ago 

Facebook showed me a memory 

of my dad walking me down the aisle


8 minutes ago 

I didn’t suspect I’d spend 

my anniversary sobbing


and yet, here we are.




I Need a Minute


I am not ready to explain to my son 

why I’m crying, so I lock myself

in the bathroom and fill the tub 

with the hottest water I can stand 

let my skin redden and nearly 

burn. I am not ready to speak 


the word that will make this grief 

real. I am tired of my friends 

sacrificing pounds of flesh 

to operating rooms just for cancer 

to chew new holes in them. I wonder 


how many tears it will take for me 

to float. The Dead Sea has a salinity 

of almost thirty four percent. I make 

a mournful buoy—hold my breath 

as my head sinks to the bottom,

not yet ready to fill my lungs with air.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Michelle Smith

Sole Days Nike hi-tops thrown on a wire those basketball shoes black and white hanging by shoe strings. How did the pair get so much high? T...